


Bell, Book, and Candle

by NapoleonAndLafayette



Series: Bedknobs and Broomsticks [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen, MWPP Era, Marauders' Era, The Golden Trio Era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-22 13:43:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 68,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4837385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NapoleonAndLafayette/pseuds/NapoleonAndLafayette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Friendships and romances are tested to their limits as allegiances grow stronger and blood ties become harder to ignore. A war is coming, and with the final terms of their 7th year about to begin, the class of 1978 takes up arms as the world they knew begins to crumble around them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Delacroix Spectacle de Noël

**23 December 1977**

Emilie Delacroix was wedged uncomfortably at the dinner table between Lucius Malfoy and Regulus Black, trying to ignore the fact that Narcissa Black's hand had been planted firmly on Lucius's crotch for the past several minutes. He had been keeping his composure rather well, she thought, though it hadn't escaped her notice that he had been chewing on the same mouthful of roasted pork far longer than necessary.

Regulus, on her left, was making wild hand gestures as he tried to communicate across the table to his cousin Bellatrix around a mouthful of potatoes, one of his elbows dangerously close to upsetting Emilie's goblet with each gesticulation. Bellatrix was obviously making an attempt to listen to him, but kept diverting her attention to shoot Rodolphus Lestrange dark looks. Emilie suspected something was going on between them under the table, but Bella didn't seem to be reciprocating Rodolphus's affections. His brother was muttering something confidentially to Rosier and Avery, who were nodding fervently in response to whatever it was he was saying. Kurt Lovell was sitting beside Avery, moodily picking at his pork roast.

Emilie's parents were seated at the end of the table, her father laughing uproariously at something a Russian man Emilie didn't recognize had said, her mother silently pushing the food around on her plate. The seat at the very head of the table was empty -- it had been reserved for the Dark Lord himself, but he had already left for the evening -- something about urgent business in the north. He had given a vague apology and Disapparated before Madame Delacroix had even instructed the House Elves to uncork the first bottle of wine.

Abruptly, Lucius excused himself from the table and stood, exiting the dining room. Nobody seemed to notice or care that Narcissa almost immediately did likewise.

Emilie took advantage of their vacated seats and inched her chair away from Regulus's, thankful for the extra room, scooting her goblet out of range of his flailing elbow. She dropped her gaze from the other diners down to her hands, folded carefully in her lap. She tugged back the sleeve of her robe and glanced down at the slender lines now etched on her forearm, lightly tracing the fingers of her right hand along the contours of what was unmistakably the body of a snake. The lines of the Dark Mark had already faded from their initial stark black to a bloody red. She felt someone's eyes on her and looked up to see Rosier smirking at her across the table.

"Guess I was wrong about you, Delacroix," he said, pausing a moment to hiccup. "Looks like you're one of us, after all. But what will dear Geoffrey think?"

Emilie grabbed her goblet and choked down a mouthful of fairy wine, determined to ignore him.

"Maybe he'll bash your face in with a club. He's fond of doing that to people like us, you know," Rosier went on, lifting his own goblet from the table with one hand and swirling its contents around, tapping the side of his now crooked nose with a finger of his opposite hand. "Or maybe he'll just break your collarbone or crack a few ribs like he did to Avery and Regulus. No big deal, right? What are a few broken bones?"

At the end of the table, Walburga Black shrieked with laughter, clapping the Russian man on the shoulder and wiping a tear of mirth from one eye. Emilie tried to imagine herself somewhere else.

"Hey, bitch." Rosier slammed his goblet down on the table, wine slopping out of it and down the side. Regulus's tirade to his cousin died down, and even Rodolphus Lestrange turned his attention away from Bellatrix to glance warily sideways. Rosier stood abruptly, the legs of his chair scraping against the hardwood floor, catching the attention of the other diners, even Walburga's laugh dying on her lips. "I'm talking to _you_ , Delacroix."

Emilie flipped some of her dark hair over one shoulder and continued looking intently at Regulus. "What were you saying, Reg? Please, go on -- something about goblins, you said?"

Regulus's eyes slid uncertainly from Rosier to Emilie and back again. "Err -- yeah, Mum was saying she thought--"

He stopped short as Rosier whipped out his wand and pointed it toward Emilie as he swayed slightly on the spot. Down the table, Madame Delacroix tutted despairingly, her pleasant holiday dinner falling into shambles before her eyes, while her husband chortled, murmuring something about boys will be boys. Rosier's father stood, raising a hand in a placating gesture. "Evan..." he said, a warning plain in his voice.

Emilie looked at the tip of the wand in front of her, then at its owner, painfully aware that all eyes were now on them. Evan was scowling down at her, his eyes slightly glassy and unfocused as he continued to sway. He grabbed the edge of the table with one hand to steady himself as he hiccuped again. He raised his wand high above his head, and began to bring it down, his lips beginning to form a spell, but Emilie was faster.

She whipped her wand out from beneath her robes and cried, " _Serpensortia_!" A snake flew from the end of her wand and into Rosier's face, knocking him back from the table. He stumbled and fell to the floor as cries of alarm and protest sounded from the other diners.

"Is that the best you've got?" Rosier demanded, reaching up to tear the serpent away from his face.

" _Oppugno_!"

The snake twisted in Rosier's hand and sank its teeth into his arm. He pulled it off, its fangs leaving twin gashes in his arm where they'd torn through his flesh. Once the snake was on the floor, a quick severing charm had the thing in two pieces as Rosier scrambled unsteadily back to his feet. Several of the adults had vacated their seats and were hurrying toward the duelists, but Emilie had already fled the room, the hem of her robes just disappearing around the corner. Rosier took off after her, shaking off the arms of the witches and wizards trying to hold him back, firing a few jinxes at his would-be pursuers. His feet fell heavily on the stairs and he stumbled into a side table as he rounded a corner, knocking a vase of carefully-arranged flowers to the ground, startling several portraits awake. He paid no mind to their cries of protest and alarm as he raised his wand again, blasting Emilie's closed bedroom door off its hinges with another spell.

The door had not even come to rest on the carpet when a jet of red light from inside the room hit him squarely in the chest, knocking him backward. He crashed into the opposite wall, knocking a large portrait to the floor. The people in the portrait clambered back to their feet and began shaking their fists at him, but he ignored them, kicking the painting away from him as he stood, slicing his wand through the air. Emilie deflected his curse, sending a nearby vase tumbling to the floor as she whipped her own wand above her head, sending another flash of red light at him. He dodged her spell, and another portrait crashed to the floor. The duelists carried their fight from one end of the upstairs corridor to the other, sending several more artifacts and portraits crashing to the floor. Footsteps pounded up the staircase as the others dashed upstairs to put a halt to the duel, having remedied their disabling jinxes.

" _Crucio_!"

The spell hit Rosier in the chest, knocking him to the floor, making him call out in pain. But no sooner had he gone down than he was pulling himself back to his feet, his wand shaking visibly in his hand.

"That scumsucker Mansfield's softened you up, hasn't he? Can't even bring yourself to _really_ hurt me. You have to mean it. _Crucio_!"

The spell immediately had Emilie on the floor, writhing, trying to do anything to stop the incredible agony. She heard someone shout something from the staircase and seconds later, the pain stopped, leaving her breathing heavily and shaking on the floor. Her head spinning as her vision came back into focus, she saw Evan's father holding him by the front of his robes, berating him, other adults ushering the rest of the students back downstairs. Someone was walking toward her and knelt beside her.

She felt familiar hands roaming over her arm and back, brushing her hair out of her face, and heard her mother's voice speaking softly but sternly, the words incomprehensible. Madame Delacroix helped her daughter to her feet, but Emilie's knees buckled as soon as she was standing and she collapsed back to the floor, still shaking. She felt herself be magically lifted from the floor and pushed along the hallway to her bedroom, and finally lowered onto her bed.

Madame Delacroix's words became clearer as she busied herself with tending to her daughter. "...absolute disgrace... don't know what you were thinking... should be ashamed... no excuse..."

Emilie rolled onto her side away from her mother, burying her face into a pillow as she began to sob. After several long moments, her mother stood and left, muttering " _reparo_ " as she passed the doorway. The door sprang back to its hinges, and Emilie heard the lock turn. Once her mother's footsteps had retreated down the hallway and everything was silent, Emilie found herself wracked with sobs.

She didn't know how long she laid there. No one came to her door. The house was quiet. Once her sobbing had calmed down, she pushed herself shakily up onto her elbows and groped for the drawer in her bedside table, rummaging around in it until her hand closed around a piece of thick yellow parchment. She pulled it out and sat up on the bed, beginning to read the letter for the umpteenth time, but before she had finished reading the first line, her vision blurred as her eyes filled with tears again. She wiped them away and forced herself to focus on the letter's last words, trying to keep her hands from shaking -- _I'll be at the Leaky Cauldron around 8:30 on the 23rd if you'd like to meet up for a drink. - Geoff_

She lowered the letter and glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. It was almost eight-twenty. She looked back at the letter, considering. It would be no trouble to Apparate to the Leaky Cauldron and meet him. Her eyes slid from the letter to her left forearm, the head of a snake just visible where the sleeve of her robes had fallen back from her wrist. She tugged the sleeve down. She couldn't face him. Not tonight.

She clutched the letter to her chest, curled up on her bed, and cried herself to sleep.

 


	2. The Nightmare Before Christmas Eve

"MARIAH! YOUR OWLS ARE LOOSE AGAIN!" came a shout from the living room.

Mariah left her desk quickly and descended the stairs to find a large snowy owl sitting on the back of a chair. It looked up at her expectantly and chirped once before holding out a leg. Mariah tucked a few knuts into the small pouch there, taking the paper from its beak and standing out of its way as it took off back out of the window into the cloudy sky. Behind her, a gangly, sandy-haired boy sat on the couch, glaring at her. She glanced at him once in passing as she made her way back to the stairs, but he turned his eyes back to the television, looking sour.

"Thought I told you to route those bloody birds to your room."

"I can't open my window, Devon. It's painted shut," said Mariah.

"You can magic it open, can't you? You've been going to that nuthouse long enough, haven't they taught you to open a window yet?"

"It's not a nuthouse," said Mariah calmly. "If it were, someone there would probably have told me how to explain to owls where to leave the post."

The front door opened at that moment, cutting off Devon's retort.

"I'm _home_!" came a call. Devon watched Mariah darkly as she started back up the stairs.

"Dunno why you're trying to leave, he's just going to call you back to help him with more of those mad decorations." He lifted his legs and crossed his ankles on the coffee table. "You know, cause you're the _gifted_ child."

"Shut up, Devon, you--"

"Mari! Come and help me get some of these Floating Fairylights working! Oh, and I got this new thing called Tambourine Tinsel...it's got a jinglebell jinx on it. We can see how that works..."

Blushing, Mariah walked quickly into the kitchen while Devon clicked his tongue and went back to watching the television. Dr. Jaeger had set his briefcase down on the kitchen counter and was shuffling through some of the boxes stacked on the chairs, looking eager.

"Ooh, Mari, look at this..." He pulled out a lantern that was flashing red and green off a small suspended prism in the center like some festive disco ball. Looking elated, he walked to the refrigerator and placed it on top of it, standing back to admire the effect. Mariah had opened another box, withdrawing a string of Shimmering Starlights.

"How are we supposed to hang these?" she asked, looking at her father. He grinned at her.

"You're of age, now, aren't you?"

"Oh yeah..." Mariah took her wand from her jacket pocket and pointed it at the string of lights, muttering a charm. They began to float up towards the ceiling, winding slowly, but shimmering like real stars on their ceiling, the string almost invisible between them.

"Wow," said her father, leaning on the counter and looking impressed. "Devon! C'mere and see this!" he shouted into the other room without looking away.

A moment later, the sullen boy appeared at the kitchen doorway, leaning on the frame with his arms crossed. He glanced up at the lights, then at Mariah, muttering his indifference in response to their father's approval shortly before returning to the other room. To Mariah's dismay, Dr. Jaeger picked up another few boxes and followed him, settling in an armchair just as Devon flopped back onto the couch, grabbing his guitar from where it leaned against the armrest and setting to tuning it. He glanced up as the rest of his family invaded the room, looking displeased, but continued as though he had not noticed them. Dr. Jaeger was already absorbed in the next few boxes, but Mariah was watching the television, her arms crossed as the newscaster woman gave way to the image of a destructed house.

" _\--family of five found dead in their home today after a break-in. Forensic examiners are still investigating, but they think that poison was implemented in the murder. Neighbors say they remember seeing a group of tall figures crowded in the street before the attack, all wearing black. Police officers are advising the public to alert the nearest authority if anyone out of the ordinary appears--_ "

The screen went black.

"Hey! I was watching that!" said Mariah, looking wildly around in time to see Devon tossing the remote back down by his feet at the opposite end of the couch. He glanced at her lazily.

"Tough," he said, strumming a few chords and reaching up to tune a string.

"Mari, leave your brother alone..." muttered their father distractedly, rummaging in another box. "What on earth are these supposed to be..."

"Dad..."

"Looks like they've got little teeth...Oh! They crawl on the wire, look!"

"Did you get the post?" asked Mariah, ignoring the string of animated gargoyles her father was holding up.

"Yeah," replied Mr. Jaeger, slowly stowing the string back into its box. Mariah looked at the floor hesitantly.

"Has...has Mum written?" she asked. She saw her father glance quickly at her, but silence was avoided by the quick strumming of Devon on the guitar over on the couch.

"No, nothing from her yet," replied her father. "Still, though, takes a while for the mail to get from Eastern Europe to here, doesn't it?"

"Why don't you think she's using those mad birds like the rest of them?" piped up Devon. "Or are you just coming up with excuses as to why we haven't heard from her yet?"

"Hey, you watch your mouth," snapped Mr. Jaeger sharply. Mariah didn't say anything. Devon's words were not unfounded, but it was not the first time he'd played devil's advocate in a dark situation within their family. Mariah could barely remember a time when he hadn't been bitter ever since he'd moved in with them when she was still in Muggle primary school.

"I took off work for Christmas," said Mr. Jaeger after a prolonged pause, speaking over Devon's guitar. "So we can spend the holidays here together."

"Actually, I think I'm taking off for Christmas," said Devon carelessly. Mariah and Mr. Jaeger looked at him.

"And where do you think you're taking off to, Devon?" asked Mr. Jaeger. Devon continued playing.

"Oh, Miles said I could spend the holidays at his place. His brother couldn't make it so I'm using his room."

"Like hell you are. What makes you think you're not spending the holidays with your own family? You've barely seen your sister all year."

" _Half-_ sister," said Devon. "If anything..." he muttered.

" _Devon_!"

"Well it's true! She's got all these mad things happening to her while I'm normal! I mean, do you really see _anything_ we have in common?"

" _You're both my children_ ," thundered Mr. Jaeger, causing both Devon and Mariah to jump. "And that's enough to call each other family and act like it! And as long as you're both my children, you'll be staying here for Christmas, and _I_ say to put that goddamn instrument away before I toss it out into the street!"

Devon hastily put away the guitar, glaring at his father. Mariah stood and started up the stairs, but her father caught her.

"No. Devon, you apologize to Mariah now."

"Sorry..." he muttered, crossing his arms. "But I'm not staying here for Christmas. I'm of age."

"You might be of age, but you're still living under my roof," growled Mr. Jaeger. "Now we're going to have a _nice_ holiday, and we're going to go caroling and have a wonderful time doing it. Is that understood?"

"Whatever..."

"What was that?"

"Yes," sighed Devon, rolling his eyes.

"Mari?"

"Yeah," said Mariah.

"Alright then." Mr. Jaeger sighed deeply, then placed his hands on his knees and pushed himself up out of the chair, a more complacent expression on his face. "Now who's going to make gingerbread with me?"

Neither child spoke for a minute. Mr. Jaeger crossed his arms and looked pointedly at Devon, who rolled his eyes and said, "Fine!" getting to his feet in exasperation. Mariah turned and headed back upstairs.

She slipped into her room and closed the door, sighing as she leaned back against it. There were times when she and Devon got along, but they were usually fleeting, ruined quickly by some mentioning of magic or Hogwarts, which immediately drove him back into his sour disposition. He'd had a sharper tongue in their youth, but now he had resorted to vacating the house as much as he could, usually with his band at his friends' houses. Over the past summer, Mariah had barely seen him at all. It hadn't made anything better.

Staring at the unfinished letter on her desk, Mariah suddenly didn't feel like writing it anymore. She glanced over the first few lines and sighed at the thought of telling her father and brother about the Order. She had no idea how her father would take it, but Devon she knew would not have a good reaction. He never liked anything to do with magic.

Unable to think of an excuse to remain upstairs, Mariah left her room and started back downstairs, mustering her courage as she headed for the kitchen. She stopped just outside, pausing before entering.

"--not going to leave us. What makes you think she is?"

"Dad, she keeps isolating herself off with those people. It's only a matter of time before she completely goes over to their side."

"Their side? Devon, this isn't some war between Muggles and wizards..."

"I mean--Dad, did you just refer to us as _Muggles_?"

"Yeah. We are."

" _Dad_! That's _their_ term! The point is, she's going to go off into their world...I mean, how are we supposed to explain to people what she's going off to be or do? I barely know now what I'm supposed to tell my friends about why she's gone to boarding school and I haven't?"

"Tell them you couldn't because it's only for intelligent children," said Mr. Jaeger.

"You're not listening--"

"Devon, you're underestimating Mari. She's not going to forget about us, if that's what you think. We're her family, she can't get rid of us that easy."

Mariah felt a surge of guilt wash through her and she leaned up against the wall, her stomach sinking. There was the sound of steps by the front door, and she heard her father say, "Is there someone at the door?" before an earth-shattering _bang_ erupted through the house and five figures swathed in black robes swarmed the house. Mariah burst into the kitchen where her father and Devon had leapt away from the countertop as the figures ran in, each brandishing a rolling pin like a bat. Mariah reached into her pocket and drew out her wand, pointing it at the two Death Eaters who had entered the kitchen and shouting, " _Stupefy_!" One fell to the floor, stunned, but the other rounded on her, his own wand out.

Thin cords shot from his wand to wrap around her, but she quickly cast a shield charm and stunned him as well.

"Mariah! What's going on!" asked Mr. Jaeger quickly.

"They're Death Eaters! They've come to--" started Mariah, but someone seized her from behind, covering her mouth and holding her arm. She felt her wand leave her grasping fingers and struggled violently, but the Death Eater's grip was too strong.

"The Dark Lord shows mercy to those who come quietly," he hissed in her ear. Mariah jerked violently, kicking her heel up behind her and hearing the Death Eater roar in pain, but hold on tighter than ever. Suddenly, she saw her brother sprint across the room, swinging the rolling pin violently, and she closed her eyes as a sickening crack sounded just by her ear and the Death Eater's hands released her.

"Mariah, are you okay?" she heard Devon ask earnestly, and opened her eyes to see him looking at her worriedly.

"Yeah, we have to get out of here." Mariah and Devon started for the door, Mr. Jaeger close behind them, but two tall black-robed figures quickly blocked it, their wands out.

"Do something!" hissed Devon, but Mariah was looking frantically around for her wand. With a roar, Mr. Jaeger pushed past them, launching himself at the Death Eaters, who laughed and waved their wands. There was a bang, and Mr. Jaeger was blasted backwards over the counter. Mariah spotted something in the fallen Death Eater's hand and ducked, grabbing it and pointing it at the Death Eaters' legs.

" _Petrificus Totallus_!" she cried, and one of the Death Eaters went completely stiff, falling backwards to the floor.

" _Diffindo_!"

Mariah felt her arm tear open in a slash and she cried out, clutching it as warm blood began to seep through her jacket.

" _Incendio_!" The Death Eater's robes caught fire and Mariah quickly scrambled away as he hopped around, trying to extinguish the flames with his wand. Devon was crouched with Mr. Jaeger on the other side of the counter, and Mariah quickly scuttled over to them.

"Mariah!" Mr. Jaeger threw his arms around her.

"Come on, Dad, we've got to get out of here--" Mr. Jaeger suddenly pushed Mariah out of the way as a jet of light flew from the end of the previously stunned Death Eater lying in the hall. It hit Mr. Jaeger squarely between the shoulders and slices began erupting all over his body, soaking his clothes with blood.

" _Dad_!" shouted Devon. Mariah could see the other Death Eater getting to his feet, and she quickly grabbed a hold of Devon, reaching for her father.

"Dad! Grab my hand!"

She turned on the spot, and their kitchen spun away from them as they squeezed through time and space into the unknown. Mariah felt her father's grip go limp suddenly and his fingers left hers as she screamed soundlessly in the vortex.

And then it was over.

Mariah spilled over onto the grass, feeling fresh cold rain on her face. She sat up, ignoring the pain in her arm and looking around.

"Dad! _Dad_!"

Devon lay nearby, propping himself up as he retched. They were in a field somewhere, lights of a town barely visible over the crest of a hill. And their father was nowhere to be seen.

"Oh no...oh no where is he...oh no..." Mariah sank to her knees as Devon spat, shaking.

"Mariah..."

"He let go...he let go..."

"Mariah what the hell did you just do?"

"I..." Tears were overflowing from her eyes now as her voice thickened. "I tried to Disapparate, but...I had him...and he let go..."

"Explain this to me in human terms, Mariah! Where's Dad?"

"He let go!"

"So what does that mean!?"

"I don't know where he is! He was bleeding, Devon!" Mariah sobbed, putting her face in her hands. "The Death Eaters were after us!"

"What's a Death Eater?" asked Devon. "Who were those men?"

"They're working for Lord V...Voldemort," shuddered Mariah. "He's the Dark Wizard who's been killing all the M-Muggles...like that family on TV..."

"What...that was wizards?" asked Devon, his eyes widening.

"Y-yes!"

"Well why are they after us!?"

"I d-don't know! M-maybe because of M-Mum, but..." Mariah broke into a fresh wave of sobs. Devon watched her, his eyes strange.

"So they attacked us because of your Mum?" he repeated. Mariah looked up at him, suddenly scared.

"I don't know! That's all I can think of! I haven't done anything they'd have known about!"

"What do you mean they'd have known about?"

"I mean I'm still in s-school! Devon, we have to find Dumbledore! He can help us--"

"Who? Isn't that the head of your school?"

"Yes! He can help us find Dad!"

"I'm not going anywhere with _you_!" said Devon quickly, pointing at her. "You're wanted, you are! There'll be more of them after you!"

"Devon you can't! Dad would want us to stick together! He'd--"

"Well look where that got him!" shouted Devon. "I told him there was something wrong with your lot, but he wouldn't listen! Now look where he is!"

"Devon, _please_!"

Devon started off across the field for the town. Mariah watched him leaving in horror.

"Where are you going!?"

"To Miles's!"

"But we're not even near home anymore!" shouted Mariah. Devon turned around.

"I'll walk if I have to. Anywhere's safer than being with you," he said scathingly. He turned and continued his departure, eventually vanishing into the dark. Mariah watched him go, too fearful to call after him. He was right. He would be safer without her.

Long after he'd disappeared into the distance, she Disapparated.

 


	3. Flaming Skulls

It was raining. Mariah walked out of the building into the downpour, pulling the hood up over her head and wishing she'd managed to grab an umbrella.

After an uncomfortable morning spent trying to escape the rain, Mariah had finally sought refuge under an awning next to a large bank and waited for it to open. She needed Muggle money if wizards were after her. After she and Devon had split, she had nearly Disapparated straight to Diagon Alley, but caught herself at the last minute when she realized that whoever had attacked her house would probably expect her to go there. Hogsmeade was another hit and miss. She'd have to accept that the Muggle world was the safest place for her until she could contact the Order.

The only problem was that finding a post owl in the Muggle world was next to impossible. In the rain, doubly so.

Banks opened early, transactions carried fast, and Mariah felt the added bulk in the pocket that held the wallet as she walked.

How she was going to get in touch with the Order was beyond her. Finding a wizarding household where she could borrow an owl sounded slightly easier, but more risky.

She wandered the streets for a while, trying to figure out how she would find an owl. Eventually, feeling the rain seeping through her jacket, Mariah quickly stepped into a coffeehouse, taking a seat away from the door.

"Scuse me, Miss, you'll have to buy something if you're going to stay in here," said a woman from behind the counter. Mariah glanced back at her, walked up to order a cup of tea, and returned to her table, thinking.

Kurt had an owl. Then again, asking him for his owl might prompt him to ask questions, and Mariah could already picture the Marauders' faces, one in particular clarity, if they found out she'd gone to a Slytherin for help the moment after her house had been attacked by Death Eaters. Or, maybe she didn't have to send an owl at all. She could just ask to stay with Kurt until the holidays were over. The memory of Mr. Lovell's cold gaze floated back to her and she dismissed the idea immediately. And then it hit her.

Lily was at home. If Lily was at home, Lily's owl was at home. Mariah had been to Lily's before a few times over past summers.

Forgetting all about her tea, Mariah quickly exited the shop, pulling her hood up again and vanishing around the corner just as a loud crack echoed down the street.

Mariah looked around. The close-knit city shops had turned into a suburban neighborhood. She quickly walked to the house she knew to be Lily's and raised her fist to knock, but paused, looking at the doorstep. Several newspapers had been left there, and the mailslot was thick with unopened letters. She leaned to peer through the windows, but found the house to be dark.

"Oh... Petunia's wedding..." Mariah turned from the door, sighing and sitting on the steps, her elbows on her knees. Lily probably wasn't even home. She'd have gone to the Order with James. Which left her exactly in the same dilemma she'd been in since the night before.

" _Jaeger_ , what are you doing here?"

Mariah leapt to her feet, drawing her wand; however, the abruptness of her movement overbalanced her, and she stumbled, clutching the railing to keep herself from falling. She looked around wildly and settled on a familiar sallow boy in dark robes standing hunched on the street before her, eyeing her with distaste. Mariah stared.

"Snape!" she said with surprise.

"So it would seem. Careful where you point that, Jaeger," said Snape. Mariah lowered her wand slowly.

"I... what are you doing here?" she asked.

"I live nearby, the question is what are _you_ doing here?"

"I..." Mariah hesitated. "I wanted to see Lily." Snape raised an eyebrow.

"So you dropped by without telling her you were coming?" he asked.

"No... I told her."

"Lily hasn't been home for a week now, due to her sister's marriage plans, surely she told you that."

"I mean she's meeting me here," said Mariah quickly.

"Which would explain your surprise at finding the house empty," drawled Snape.

"...Exactly," Mariah descended the steps to the sidewalk and started away from Snape, thinking quickly of where to try next.

"How come you're not at home, Jaeger?"

Mariah glanced around.

"Because I'm meeting Lily. How come you're not at home, Snivellus?" Snape's sneering face turned a bit sour at the name, but he went on.

"It's Christmas Eve, is it not? Shouldn't you be with your... family?"

"Piss off, Sniv--" Two loud cracks cut Mariah off as two cloaked figures appeared in the street, wands raised high. Mariah's hand went to her wand just as one of them brought their wand swishing down.

" _Stupefy_!"

Mariah dove aside, raising her wand and turning as best she could while lying on the ground.

The lady behind the counter screamed as Mariah appeared out of thin air over a stool, landing wrong and bringing it crashing to the ground. She got to her feet and started to form an apology when she felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see a long crooked nose and a pair of sparkling blue eyes smiling at her from under wispy white brows.

"Why Miss Jaeger, I wasn't aware that you enjoyed Muggle coffee creations."

"I..." Mariah was at a loss for words. "I... get tea..." Dumbledore nodded.

"Ah, well. I myself am rather fond of those macchiatos... with caramel, today, I think. Do save me a seat, won't you?"

He strode up to the shocked woman at the counter and began to place an order while Mariah fumbled with the stool that had fallen over, stunned. She walked awkwardly to a table and sat down, looking up as Dumbledore returned with two cups, placing one in front of her.

"I took the liberty of ordering you a tall Earl Gray. I hope you are not opposed."

"Thanks... ah..." Mariah watched the headmaster take a drink from his cup, and then the story exploded out of her. "Professor, they came after us! They took my dad! Devon's gone! They hurt him -- my dad I mean! I didn't know what to do! I tried Lily's, but Snape was there! He was asking stupid questions and then more Death Eaters were there! They attacked me but I came back here and- I didn't have an owl! I couldn't figure out how to contact--"

"I am aware of what has happened, Miss Jaeger, and I assure you the Order is already trying to find your father. I do not blame you for avoiding popular wizarding neighborhoods, but in the future do not hesitate to Apparate directly beside the Hogwarts grounds and come find me if need be."

"I--"

"I am deeply sorry," said Dumbledore softly. Mariah's words died in her throat. He went on. "I will help you in any way I can, the first of which being to find you a place of residence. You can return to Hogwarts, of course, but I think for now I am correct in thinking you would be more comfortable with some of your peers?" He peered over his half-moon spectacles at her. "In which case, I have sent Mr. Black to Diagon Alley to run a few errands for me. I believe he is meeting Mr. Mansfield there." He got to his feet, and Mariah awkwardly followed suit, following him out of the coffee shop. The two of them rounded the same corner she had earlier and Disapparated.

* * *

Geoff's eyes turned to the clock hanging over the bar for what must have been the thirtieth time as he took another sip of his frothy butterbeer. The Leaky Cauldron was as crowded as it ever was, the air thick with holiday cheer.

"You haven't taken your eyes off that clock since we got in here," Joel said across from him, nursing a cup of mulled wine. "Got a hot date or something?" He cracked a grin, but it dropped as Geoff failed to return the smile. "You invited that Death Eater girl."

"I invited a couple of friends to meet us here," he said, raising his mug again and breaking eye contact, choking on the frothy beverage as he took another sip a little too quickly. "I told them eight-thirty."

Joel narrowed his eyes, but looked up at the clock. "You've got a few minutes yet. Who are you waiting on, exactly?"

"Sirius said he'd come, but Emilie never answered my letter."

"Sirius...?"

"Black."

Joel stood and slammed his hand down on the table, rattling the silverware that was lying on a plate of a half-eaten cornish hen. "God _damn_ it, Geoff," he said, attracting a few disgruntled looks from the witches and wizards seated at nearby tables, "are _all_ of your friends from Death Eater families?"

Geoff pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting back the urge to yell back. "You'll like Sirius," he said. "His family disowned him, and he shares your conviction that all Slytherins are Death Eaters."

"Good, maybe he can talk some sense into you." Joel settled back into his chair, picking up his knife and fork and turning his attention back to his hen with a vengeance. "Just think what your old man would say if he were here to see you running around with a pack of Death Eaters for friends."

Geoff rolled his eyes and picked up his mug of butterbeer, taking another long swig of it. Joel frowned at him and dropped his silverware, leaning across the table to put a hand on the young man's arm.

"Listen, Geoff, I'm sorry," he said. "You're an adult now, and you're in charge of your own decisions, and I know that. I just want you to be careful. Claire and I lost your parents, we just want you to be safe. The Black family name has a lot of weight to it -- not in a good way, mind you -- and while I can't speak for this Emilie girl, I have it on very good authority that Richard Delacroix and his wife support Voldemort's cause."

"Whose authority?"

Joel was silent for a moment as he sat back in his chair and picked up his wine, swirling the dark liquid around in the cup pensively. "I have a friend who works for the _Prophet_ ," he said at last. "Gets his info straight from the Ministry -- and he told me that Richard Delacroix was seen at the Hog's Head with Walburga Black and Edmond Lestrange. And Lestrange was seen with the Carrows down Knockturn Alley just last week, and the _Carrows_ \--"

"Joel, I appreciate your concern. I really do. But I don't see how that proves anything."

Just as Joel opened his mouth to explain exactly what it proved and how, the third chair at their table slid back, and they both looked up, startled, to see Sirius dropping himself in beside them with a glass of firewhiskey. "Evening, gents," he said, raising his glass to them before reaching a hand across the table to shake Joel's.

"You must be Sirius," Joel said as Sirius eyed the half-eaten cornish hen for a moment before pulling it across to himself and beginning to pick at the potatoes piled on the edge of the plate.

"And you must be joking -- ha! That one never gets old, does it, Mansfield?" Sirius elbowed Geoff in the ribs, cracking a grin. He cut off a massive piece of meat and stuffed it into his mouth as he slathered butter on a hunk of bread. "Listen, mate, you should really come to James's for a bit. Holidays have been loads better this year, since Mum kicked me out. Didn't have to sit through Christmas with the Cunts, a.k.a. the ' _Delacroix Spectacle de Noël_.'" He rolled his eyes, taking a large bite of bread. He pointed the remainder of the roll at Geoff. "By the way," he said, pausing for a moment to swallow, "Dumbledore's got a special mission for us here in Diagon Alley."

"A special mission?"

Sirius dropped the bread onto the plate and took a large gulp of firewhiskey, shuddering as the burning liquor slid down his throat. "Yeah," he said, once he'd recovered. His eyes slid over to Joel. "For the, ah, dueling club. He wants us to get shirts made."

"Shirts." Geoff looked at his friend flatly. "Dumbledore wants us to make shirts."

"You think Madam Malkin's could do it? I'm thinking black, with a big golden, flaming skull right across the chest. Yeah."

"Let me get this straight," Geoff said, raising his eyebrows. "Dumbledore wants us to have shirts made, he put _you_ in charge of the design, and you decide on _flaming skulls_?"

"Of course he did! I have impeccable fashion sense!"

Geoff and Joel exchanged glances.

"I... don't think skulls are the message Dumbledore would want to send for a school dueling club," Joel said slowly. "It might make someone associate the club with, oh, I don't know, Death Eaters?"

"No, no, no, that's completely different," Sirius said, waving the suggestion away. "They have skull _tattoos_ , and we'd have skull _shirts_ , see?"

Joel looked for half a moment as though he were going to say something else, but thought better of it, glancing back up at the clock over the bar. "If the two of you are going to Madam Malkin's, you'd better hurry," he said. "It's nearly half-past."

Sirius drained the rest of his firewhiskey and stood, swaying a bit. "C'mon, Mansfield, let's go." Without further ado, he grabbed Geoff by the shoulder and hauled him up out of his chair, shoving him through the pub and out into the Alley.

Nearly a quarter of an hour later, the two of them were standing inside Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, Geoff shifting his weight from one leg to the other uncomfortably as Sirius tried to convey his vision to a rather confused Madam Malkin.

"...and like a crack running through the top of the skull, and make it have like one or two gold teeth just for emphasis..."

Someone cleared their throat loudly behind them, and the boys turned as one to see that Dumbledore and a rather sodden Mariah had entered the shop.

"Oh, Professor! I was just explaining the club shirts to Madam Malkin," Sirius said with a wink and a broad grin. He turned back to the seamstress. "So, like I was saying, a couple of gold teeth for emphasis, and then the _flames_ \--"

"If I could interrupt this business transaction for a quick word with these young men, I would be most grateful, madam," said Dumbledore, nodding to Madame Malkin, who seemed only too happy at the interruption of Sirius's description. Dumbledore beamed at her as she excused herself and busied herself with straightening racks of multicolored robes on the far end of the store. Dumbledore made sure she was well out of earshot before turning back to the boys, his expression suddenly serious. "Miss Jaeger's family has been attacked and her father has been abducted, and, as I understand it, they nearly caught her again during her escape," he said calmly.

Sirius and Geoff's eyes widened, and Sirius swore loudly, garnering a brief look of concern from Madam Malkin.

"I must get back to the Order," Dumbledore continued, "but I am leaving her in your care. Sirius, you may take her back to the Potters'. I am sure Lily will be willing to house her. Do not leave her alone."

"But what do they want with her?" asked Sirius sharply. Dumbledore looked from Sirius to Mariah.

"I am not sure, but for the present time we should do our utmost to make sure you are safe," he said. "Can you do that, Mr. Black?"

"Uh... yeah, 'course," said Sirius.

"Perfect," said Dumbledore. "Then I will see you all back at school." He turned, but seemed to remember something. "Oh, and I would advise against skulls, Mr. Black. That's not exactly the message we are trying to get across." Dumbledore continued to the front of the shop, and Disapparated just outside the front door.


	4. Weddings and Woes

Lily's face was red, her eyes puffy from crying. She was seated on the front steps of the Fernmoore Golf Club's clubhouse, James beside her with one arm around her shoulders. Behind them, the warm light from her sister's wedding reception was spilling out through the windows, the sounds of laughter and tinkling glasses floating out into the chilly December air.

"Don't worry about it, Lily," James was saying. "It's not your sister, it's that bloke she just married. He's the biggest Muggle I've ever seen -- in more ways than one, if you know what I'm saying!"

"It's all my fault," she sniffed, burying her face in her hands. "If I hadn't gotten into Hogwarts, we'd still be friends."

"You'll always be sisters, and that's better than being friends, right?" He gave her shoulders a squeeze. " _Right_?"

She wailed again. "Vernon hasn't spoken to either of us all evening," she said through her tears. "What will their friends think of us? I'm a terrible sister."

"You aren't," he said. "And who gives a rat's ass what their friends think? If they think they're too good for us, then we'll just have our own party, and none of them will be invited. We'll have all the mead and nettle wine we can drink, and none for them. What do you say?"

"But I _want_ to invite them, James!" Lily said, shaking James's arm off and standing, taking several steps away from him. "I want my sister to be a part of my life, and I want to be part of hers! I want her to be at my wedding someday!"

"She'll be there," he said, standing. He caught her by the arm, drawing her attention back to him. "I promise. Look, I'll go back in there and say whatever I have to to get that old prune to lay off, if that'll make you happy. I don't think he's ever going to think we're anything but freaks, but if it helps your relationship with your sister, I'll give it my best shot."

The corner of Lily's mouth twitched upward. "Thanks," she said, "but I don't know that it would help." She reached up and wiped her eyes. "Here, let me just get my bag, and we'll go."

He tugged her arm as she turned to walk back inside, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket. "Here, you're a mess. You sit tight, and I'll go get your bag for you." He kissed her on the forehead as she blew her nose, and disappeared inside before she could stop him.

James returned to the table they'd been sitting at during dinner, and found Lily's handbag on her chair, right where she'd left it. He picked it up and turned to head back for the door, but hesitated, catching sight of the bride swaying on the dance floor with her father, slightly out of step from the string quartet in the corner. He felt he should say something on behalf of Lily -- goodbye, at the very least -- but thought better of it, heading toward the door.

"...some sort of magician..."

The booming voice of Vernon Dursley cut through the crowd's chatter, and stopped James dead in his tracks. Slowly, he turned, listening.

"...don't know how her sister's going to manage. Doesn't seem like the lout can support himself, let alone a family..."

Vernon was surrounded by a group of his co-workers and their wives, all dressed in similarly boring dress shirts and ties, Vernon's grey suit looking positively flashy in the middle of the bunch. The men around him and the women at their sides were shooting disapproving glances at James over their shoulders.

He took a deep breath, telling himself to just ignore it.

"...essentially unemployed, as I understand it..."

Lily's sequined bag dropped from James's hand onto a nearby table as he stalked over to Vernon Dursley. He had no idea what he would tell these people, but he would _not_ be written off as _some sort of magician_. "Excuse me," he said pointedly.

"Really, though, I just feel bad for my dear Petunia's sister, having to put up with the nonsense," Vernon was saying, as though he hadn't heard James. "The Evanses are fine people, they raised their daughters for a better life than to run off with some magician."

"Excuse me," James said, louder. A few of Vernon's friends shifted uncomfortably. "But I'm not a _magician_."

Vernon looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. He blinked once, then twice. "Illusionist," he said. "Prestidigitator. Whatever."

"And I'm not _unemployed_ ," James went on, louder still. "I'm still in _school_. And I have a job posting after I graduate." So that last was a lie, technically; he fully intended to join the Order, but that wasn't exactly a paid position.

"Still in school, are you?" Vernon asked. There was a dangerous glint in his small blue eyes. "And what school is that? Probably some reform school, no doubt." He laughed, but only a few of his friends joined in, most of them looking uncomfortably at James and edging away.

"Hogwarts."

There was a moment's pause, and then the whole group of Muggles burst out laughing.

"There, you see?" Vernon said, wiping a tear of mirth from his eye. "Practically unemployed, and apparently a bit mad. Next thing, he'll be telling us Petunia's sister goes to Pigfarts Girls' Scho--"

Vernon was interrupted suddenly by James's fist connecting squarely with his jaw, catching him off-guard and sending him reeling backward several steps.

The chatter amongst the nearest party guests died instantly with the hit, and the effect rippled out across the reception hall, even the band grinding to a halt. The only sound punctuating the heavy silence was the staccato click of the bride's heels on the parquet as she made her way to her new husband's side, but an instant later, he was roaring, throwing himself toward James.

The wizard easily sidestepped the larger man's charge, and the Muggles around them took a step back to allow them more room. Petunia was yelling at them to stop, her hands clutching at her curled hair, her expression one of sheer mortification. James darted in for another hit, this time connecting with Vernon's ear, but he didn't manage to retreat fast enough. Vernon's meaty hand clutched at the front of James's dress shirt, and the big man snarled as he sent James flying backwards into the refreshment table.

There was an explosion of shattering crystal as the punch bowl hit the floor, James falling on top of it, and then--

" _James_!"

Vernon had been advancing on James, but stopped, his head swiveling on his short neck to see Lily standing on the edge of the circle of guests, looking horrified. She looked from James to Vernon and back again, finally looking at Petunia.

"Petunia," she started, taking a step toward her sister, but Petunia held up a hand, stopping her in her tracks.

"You have ruined my wedding," she said. "I never want to see you again."

"Tuney--"

"Just go, Lily."

Tears welling in her eyes, Lily turned and left the room, picking up her bag from where James had dropped it. She didn't look back. As she was making her way down the front steps of the clubhouse, James caught up to her, punch dripping from the back of his shirt.

"Lily, I'm so sorry, I don't know what I was--"

"Stop, James," she said. "You've done enough."

They walked down the sidewalk in silence, stopping once they were well away from the party and any prying Muggle eyes. James took Lily's hand in his, and turned on the spot, rematerializing just outside the Evans's house in Cokeworth.

"I'm sorry," James said. He nodded towards the front door. "Will you be alright?"

"Petunia's moving into her new house in Little Whinging with Vernon. Mum and Dad won't be home until late. I can deal with them tomorrow." Lily looked down at her feet, unwilling to meet James's eyes. "It'll all blow over soon," she added, though she didn't sound convinced.

"You let me know if you need anything, all right? My dad would love for you to come stay with us if you decide you need to get away," he said. He tucked a loose strand of her red hair behind her ear. He leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead, but a sudden, loud crack caught his attention. An instant later, a jet of red light hit the wall of the house just above their heads, and both Lily and James had their wands out and at the ready.

A hooded figure emerged from behind a nearby fence, wand raised to fire another spell in their direction, but James wasted no more time, grabbing Lily by the hand, turning on the spot, and Disapparating.

They reappeared in James's living room, crashing down onto the sofa and startling his father Fleamont, who had just been settling into his arm chair with steaming hot cups of tea.

"Well," James said, looking at Lily, "looks like you're staying here."

* * *

The rain had stopped when they left Madam Malkin's, but it left a chill in the air that froze their breaths like smoke as they made their way back to the Leaky Cauldron. Geoff had managed to talk Sirius off of skulls, and they had left Madam Malkin with less of an appalled look on her face. Mariah was fairly quiet through the rest of the shopping trip, but Geoff and Sirius took it in stride and did not let it distract from their discussion.

"Still, it's too on-the-nose, I think," said Sirius. "A Phoenix? They're not even gold, they're red."

"It's the most iconic symbol, Sirius, and even Dumbledore didn't want a great ugly skull," said Geoff. "I mean, who would besides Death Eaters? You want on-the-nose, Sirius? _Death Eaters_."

"Never thought about it like that," muttered Sirius. "Who runs their marketing campaign?"

"I dunno, but Voldemort's pretty out there as well," said Geoff.

Mariah allowed her attention to wander, while staying close on the boys' heels. Her thoughts were far away, with Devon at Miles's house. She wondered what excuse he had given, or if he had just acted like nothing had happened. She hoped he was safe. And her father. She hoped for him, too.

"Can we stop by Eeylops?" she asked suddenly. The boys turned around. "I want to send an owl."

"You can borrow James's," said Sirius. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but thought better of it.

They parted with Geoff back in the Leaky Cauldron, waving him off as he exited with Joel. Sirius took Mariah's hand and led her outside and down the street, where they Disapparated.

They reappeared at a four-way stop and Mariah followed Sirius, who still held her hand in his, down a steep, winding street.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Not far. Mr. and Mrs. Potter don't want us Apparating too near the house in case Muggles are watching. Sometimes they wander into the neighborhood." Sirius turned a corner towards a cul-de-sac and Mariah followed.

There was an untidy silence between her and Sirius, and it took her a moment to realize that the last time they had been alone together had been at the Quidditch match afterparty in the hall. She felt a small lurch in her stomach, and became very aware of the way he was clutching her hand. She pulled it away.

"I've got it," she said. Sirius glanced at her.

"Alright. I just thought it would be better for safety," said Sirius.

He didn't say anymore until they reached the Potters' house. Sirius let himself in without knocking and Mariah followed a bit hesitantly. The place was extremely clean, and was filled with a plethora of spindly small glass items that reminded Mariah of her grandparents' house. She followed Sirius through a sitting room and into a kitchen where she was suddenly hit by a very wet Lily. It took her a moment to realize she was crying.

"What... what's wrong?" asked Mariah awkwardly, patting her friend on the back.

"P-Petunia," sobbed Lily, "and... and then the D-Death Eaters." Lily squeezed Mariah tighter and Mariah hugged her back, but glanced around the kitchen only to see that Sirius was gone. Slowly, Mariah coaxed the story out of Lily, about the wedding, Petunia's cold silence, her husband's fight with James.

"Where is James?" Mariah asked, pulling back from Lily and leading her over to the sink, where she poured a glass of water.

"Upstairs," hiccuped Lily, taking the cup. "D-Dumbledore told us what happened," she said, shaking her head. "They were waiting outside my house--"

"They attacked you, too?" asked Mariah.

"W-We Disapparated just in time," said Lily. "I c-can't think they'd go for my parents, but I just can't be sure."

"I'm sure Dumbledore's put someone on it by now," reassured Mariah, but she was speaking empty words. Lily seemed to take heart, though, and her sobs died down a few minutes later.

"But why are they targeting us?" asked Lily.

"It's got to be because we're Muggle-born, hasn't it?" said Mariah. "They might be trying to weed us out."

"Mariah..." Lily was looking intensely the stove, but didn't seem to be seeing it. "You don't think that foldout in _Hellion Hexes_ was a hit-list, do you? I know we thought it might be, but... I mean Geoff was on it, and he's a Pureblood."

"I have no idea," said Mariah, but she felt her heart in her throat. Someone had gone to great lengths to get that book back, after all... "Er... Lily, do you think I could borrow James's owl? I just want to send Kurt a message."

Lily took Mariah to the Potters, an elderly, but kindly couple, and they provided her with parchment and quills, and a promise that the next day she could send the family owl. Mariah and Lily were both bunking in the guest room, and did not see Sirius and James again that night. Mariah wrote by the light of her wand, as she heard Lily's quiet sobs dying down slowly in the dark bed behind her.

_Dear Kurt,_

_I haven't heard from you at all. My house was attacked, I don't know if it's in the news at all, but they took my Dad._

Mariah stopped writing. She drew her knees to her chest and ducked her face into them for a good while, hugging them to her. After a while she grabbed the quill again and finished off the letter with a short

_I'm safe for now, but scared out of my mind. I don't know why they're after me. Please, write back, I don't know what to do. Please._

_Love, Mariah_

She folded the letter and extinguished her wand, placing both on the bedside table and turning away from Lily so that she would not wake her with her crying.


	5. Skivvies in the Snow

It was nearly two in the morning when Fleamont Potter awoke to what sounded like someone trying to beat down his front door. Groggily, he stumbled down the hallway and opened the front door, only to be nearly bowled over by a very disheveled Joel Morrison. Joel was barefoot, a fluffy blue dressing hastily thrown on, his wand drawn as he looked around wildly.

"Tie your robe, Joel, there's young ladies here," Fleamont said, grabbing the other man by the shoulders and ushering him indoors. "What in God's name is going on?"

"Death Eaters," Joel said, darting to the window. He pulled back the curtain a fraction of an inch to peer outside, his wand still held at the ready. "We were at the Mansfield's and a couple of 'em showed up. Greg's goddamn herd of crups started howling and--" He broke off suddenly, looking around at Fleamont with a horrified expression. " _ The crups. _ "

"The crups will be fine. I'm sure the Death Eaters couldn't care less about Greg's menagerie. Now tell me what--"

Another frantic knocking on the door interrupted him. He hesitated, but Joel was instantly at the door, wrenching it open, and slamming it back shut as soon as Claire was indoors.

"Where's Geoff?" she asked. "Is he here?"

"He's not with you?"

The Morrisons looked at each other, and then at Fleamont. With a loud  _ crack _ , they Disapparated.

The Mansfields' property was in chaos when Joel and Claire appeared there an instant later. Half a dozen nifflers were scratching at the front door, trying to get inside, while half a dozen more were panicking around the yard. There was indistinct yelling coming from the backyard, drowned out by the howling of the pack of crups. Wands drawn, the Morrisons hurried around the side of the house to find a Death Eater hurling curses at Geoff, the Gryffindor dodging and deflecting most of them but failing to send off his own spells toward his attacker.

Joel raised his wand above his head and yelled, charging forward toward Geoff and the Death Eater, but as a jet of light shot from the end of his wand, the Death Eater Disapparated into the night.

Geoff looked around wildly, as though expecting the Death Eater to reappear and resume his onslaught at any moment. He caught sight of Joel running towards him and lowered his wand, relief rushing over him. An instant later, his relief was gone as he found himself flat on his back, Joel crouching over him with the tip of his wand pressed to his neck.

"Lesson one," Joel said, "never lower your wand until you know the danger has passed."

"Joel, why don't you have pants--?"

"Until you  _ know _ the danger has passed!" he repeated. "What if I had been a Death Eater in disguise? You'd be dead." Joel removed his wand from Geoff's throat and stood, helping the boy to his feet, giving him a brief once-over. "You all right, then?"

"Yeah," Geoff said. "Yeah, I'm all right."

"Come on, then," Claire said, hurrying across the yard. "We'd better leave before they come back. It's not safe here."

"But what about all of dad's--"

"The Death Eaters aren't after a load of knarls and nifflers," Joel said, grabbing Geoff roughly by the arm. "I don't know what they want with us, but we need to get somewhere safe."

Another tug on his arm, and Geoff felt the familiar compressing sensation of Disapparition as he was pulled to another location. When he felt solid ground beneath his feet again, he found himself in the Potters' entryway, Fleamont keeping watch by the front door. Fleamont jumped at the  _ crack _ of their Apparition, whirling around and thrusting his wand toward Joel. "You. Name, allergies, and favorite jam."

"Joel Morrison. Allergic to knarls and shellfish. My favorite flavor of jam is apricot."

Fleamont seemed satisfied with this, and turned to Claire. "Name and cheese preference."

"Claire Morrison. Née Werley. Hate gouda, love brie."

Again, he was satisfied, and turned to Geoff, narrowing his eyes. "You, I don't know. But by God, you're the spitting image of Greg, and you showed up with these two, so I'll let you pass without interrogation this time. By the by, what's your preferred pattern for your skivvies?"

"I -- what?"

"Your underpants. Security, so that next time you come busting into my house, I know you're who you say you are, and not someone coming in to kill me."

"Is that... likely?"

"Just tell me what's on your drawers. Stripes? Polka dots? Tartan?"

"The -- the Union Jack."

"Thought as much," Fleamont grunted, tucking his wand into his robe pocket. He held out a hand for Geoff to shake. "Fleamont Potter. You must be Geoff. James and Sirius are down the hall and to the left. Make yourself at home, I'm sure they'll be thrilled you're here for Christmas."

Geoff thanked him and headed down the hallway. Fleamont beckoned Claire and Joel to follow him into the kitchen, where he put a kettle on the stove. "All right, you two," he said, settling himself into one of the chairs at the table. "Start talking."


	6. August, 1994

St. Mungo's Hospital For Magical Maladies and Injuries was abuzz with people running from floor-to-floor, though none so busy as the ground floor. Every healer who was not needed in their own wards were hanging around the ward for Artefacts Accidents, some trying to see over the crowd, dancing on their toes with quills and parchment clenched tight in their hands. A few of them held the most recent issue of the  _ Daily Prophet _ tucked under their arms, the headline stretched in a scroll, reading  _ SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP _ .

There had indeed been scenes of terror, but fairly few injuries. One elderly wizard had let loose his pet tebo in a fit of panic and two people had been hospitalized. One anxious witch had shot off spells in every direction, sending three people to the Spell-Damage ward and receiving several lawsuits.

On the third floor, Potions and Plant Poisoning, Mariah was the only one minding her ward. It was a slow night, to be sure. There were just three patients -- one allergic reaction and two victims of the same venomous tentacula. She was flipping through the  _ Prophet _ at a glance, skimming the articles. She had read the front page, but beyond that there was just one thing she was looking for. When she reached the last page, she closed the paper and sighed. No mention of Sirius.

Every day she combed the news for a sign of him, but no news was good news. After she had last seen him in June she had gotten one owl, a tiny little thing, with just a napkin with a single word on it.  _ Thanks. _ All she could do was read the paper and hope he had gotten himself far enough away to stay safe.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts and she looked up to see Geoffrey Mansfield standing there.

"Hello, Mariah. I managed to find your name in the directory. The receptionist was a little busy downstairs. Apparently Lynch is well enough to sign autographs now," he said.

"Geoff! What brings you here?" asked Mariah.

"Sarah's downstairs with Mumblemumps," he answered, pointing to the floor below. "She's got to stay here a few days and then go home for bedrest."

"Aw, no. Poor girl."

"But actually, Dumbledore wanted me to ask you something," he went on. "It looks like they're bringing back the Triwizard Tournament this year and he'll be needing extra medical staff."

"Oh...yeah, sure, I'm sure he can convince St. Mungo's to let me go again," said Mariah. "Is that the only reason this time, or is there some escaped pet that belonged to all of us back in the day?"

"Can never tell with Dumbledore," shrugged Geoff. 

"So, uh… has he said anything about…?" Mariah glanced up at Geoff, who nodded.

"He's out of England. Dumbledore knows the head of the investigation and is trying to throw him off."

"Good luck with that. Kurt's not exactly easy to fool," said Mariah. 

"The investigation got reassigned," said Geoff. "Now it's Kingsley Shacklebolt on it. It's no longer a priority now that the sightings have dropped and Fudge wants the whole Hogwarts debacle hushed up. His reputation's on the line, you know."

"Right," said Mariah. She wondered exactly how angry Kurt had been once he'd had his bargaining chip taken away.

"Anyway, I've got to get back to Sarah," said Geoff, turning. "Drop Dumbledore a line about the job."

"I will," said Mariah, waving. 

Geoff left the ward to return to his daughter, and Mariah glanced back at the paper once before tossing it in the trash. The thought of going back to Hogwarts put a spring in her step as she walked off to treat one of the venomous tentacula victims as they began convulsing.

When Geoff returned to Sarah's ward, he found her just as he had left her, propped up in bed with a book, her face and neck horribly swollen, but Joel was nowhere to be seen. "Don't tell me your brother went down to get an autograph from Lynch," he said.

Sarah mumbled and incoherent answer.

Heaving a sigh, Geoff turned and left the ward to go look for his wayward child. He reached the ground floor of the hospital and shoved his way through the masses of visitors, scanning the crowd for any sign of his son's dark-haired head. He ignored several people as they yelled at him to wait his turn to see Lynch, and in fact made it all the way to the door of the Quidditch player's room before he finally conceded that his son was nowhere to be found. A sudden panic gripped him, and he began wading through the sea of people once more, trying to think of where else Joel could have gone.

No sooner had he emerged on the other side of the crowd than he saw his son appear from a side corridor, his usual scowl firmly in place.

"Joel, I told you to stay with your sister while I spoke to Mariah. You couldn't have waited two minutes?"

"I just went to use their owlery," the boy said, shrugging. "I was coming right back."

Geoff gripped his son by the shoulder and began steering him toward the stairs and back up to Sarah's ward. "I just want you to stay  _ safe _ , Joel. With the attacks at the World Cup the other day, we can't be too careful."

"Dad, I think people would be more concerned with attacking Lynch than attacking me. You don't have to treat me like a little kid all the time, you know."

"I know." Geoff stopped walking and turned to face his son, placing a hand on each of the boy's shoulders. "I already lost your mother. I don't want to lose you or your sister, too."

Joel brushed his dad's hands off his shoulders and continued walking, his scowl deepening. "I don't know what you're so worried about. I mean, you've got to be the only one in the country who's not worried about 'notorious mass-murderer Sirius Black' murdering your whole family, but you're worried about random attacks? That's mad."

"Listen to me," Geoff said, stopping again and grabbing his son's sleeve, turning the boy to face him. "You are going to do as I say, and you are going to stay safe. Sirius Black does not concern me. What  _ does  _ concern me is the threat that someone much more dangerous could escape from Azkaban and do much more damage."

"Yeah, well, no one's broken out yet. Everyone's still locked up tight, including Mum." Joel jerked his sleeve away. "Maybe she'll get out and come home. Then I might have a parent I could actually look up to."

He turned and stalked away down the corridor, leaving Geoffrey gaping after him. The hem of Joel's robes disappeared around the corner, and Geoff emerged from his stupor, hurrying after him, his rage building as he worked on forming a lecture for his son. By the time he reached Sarah's ward, he saw that his son had pulled a chair into the corner and was scribbling away furiously on a roll of parchment, writing yet another letter to his mysterious summer penpal. Day after day, the surly Slytherin boy had written letter after letter to some unknown entity.

A tiny voice in the back of Geoff's mind suggested that perhaps Joel had been writing to Emilie. He wondered if Emilie had written him back. He tried to remember the last time he had received a letter from his wife, but it had been years; she had stopped responding long before he had stopped writing. He shook the thought from his mind, exhaling a deep breath as his anger ebbed slightly. Even if Joel were writing to Emilie, she wouldn't be writing back. She  _ couldn't  _ be writing back. Not after thirteen years in Azkaban. But then again, Sirius was living proof that someone could not only survive Azkaban, mind intact, but actually  _ escape _ ...

Geoff pulled a chair over to Sarah's bedside and seated himself, settling himself in for a long, quiet night.


	7. Follies and Foreshadowing

Christmas morning greeted them with a fierce chill frosting the windows and creeping into the room. The girls awoke slowly and laid in bed for a while before moving enough to let each other know they were awake. 

"Merry Christmas," mumbled Mariah, combing her tangled mass of hair through her fingers.

"You too," said Lily. 

"You feeling better?" asked Mariah.

Lily shrugged. "Not really. You?"

Mariah shook her head. "We should probably go downstairs," she said. "Everyone will be up soon."

The girls walked back to the Potters' living room, only to find it empty but for an owl or two asleep on the backs of couches, probably recovering from their nighttime flight through the cold weather. In the corner, a mound of parcels had appeared overnight underneath a heavily decorated Christmas tree.

"Presents," said Lily, walking over and rifling through them. She bit her lip and glanced back at Mariah, who shrugged.

"Don't worry about it." 

"I sent an owl with your present to your house already," said Lily quickly. Mariah pointed at Lily's packages.

"Go ahead and see what you got." 

"Let's open them with the boys," said Lily, getting to her feet. 

"It's not early... why are they still asleep?" said Lily, checking her watch. Mariah looked around, and a table covered in party crackers caught her eye.

"We should wake them up," she said, nodding at the table. Lily glanced around at it. "Unless you're still mad at James, of course."

"No..." Lily smiled at Mariah. "We should wake them up." The two of them snagged a few party favors off of a table and crept up the hall to the boys' room, pushing the door in quietly. 

Almost every inch of the bed was occupied, taken up by the overlapping, sprawled limbs of the two gangly boys. James had the upper left side of the bed in a sort of invasive C-shape, while Sirius had colonized the lower half of the bed in an odd dead-man's-float. Mariah and Lily approached the bed, shushing each other. Lily held up three fingers. Two fingers. One.

Both of them shrieked and pulled apart party crackers, which let off a loud BANG and few sparks as they expelled their prizes. The result was pandemonium. James grabbed his pillow and hurled it at Lily, who was closest, yelling something that sounded like an incantation, though he didn't have his wand. Sirius leapt out of bed, tangled in the sheets, and hit his head on one of the bedposts, his hand shooting up to the night table for his wand, but instead knocking the whole thing over.

Mariah and Lily doubled up with laughter, groping blindly for support. Suddenly, though, two jets of light hit squarely in their chests, and they fell to the floor, missing another few that ricochet off of the walls and hit the windows. Geoff had leapt up from the opposite side of the bed, where he had been sleeping on the floor in a tangle of blankets, wand at the ready.

"Geoff! Calm down!" shouted James, grasping for his own wand from the bedside table and effectively disarming the redhead.

Joel burst into the room in a robe -- though thankfully this time he had trousers on beneath it -- looking around wildly with his wand raised, taking in the scene of chaos. He gave the Marauders a disapproving look and muttered something about going back to bed, tucking his wand back into his bathrobe.

Sirius stepped over to look down at the girls on the floor, frowning. "He hit Mariah with a Jelly Legs... and it looks like Lily's got Knee-Reversal Jinx..." He shook his head, laughing, and looked back at Geoff. "Does anyone know the counter-jinx for any of these?" 

"Are you telling me that  _ none of you _ knows the counter-spell for Jelly-Legs?" asked Mariah incredulously, trying to pull herself up on trembling feet. Sirius shrugged. 

"Well... I'm more of an offense than a defense," he said, giving her a hand.

James was pulling Lily to her feet, bracing her with his shoulder. "Let's get them downstairs, and then we can look up the counter-jinxes."

"What is this!? I look like an ostrich!" she yelled as he led her down the hallway.

Sirius pulled Mariah to her feet, wrapping one of her arms over his shoulders. Geoff caught her other arm, adding his support.

"Sirius... maybe you should put a shirt on first..." Geoff said, glancing over at him. 

"Oh, don't worry, my siren good looks don't affect her, or she'd have dumped Lovell months ago," said Sirius. Geoff rolled his eyes. 

"I was thinking more in terms of the snow and ice," he said in annoyance. Sirius grabbed a robe off his bedpost and folded it over his free arm.

"Fine, if it bothers you so much..." 

They hobbled down the stairs to the living room, where Lily already lay on a couch with James flipping through a book for the counter-jinx. Not long after, both girls were back to normal.

"When did you get in, Geoff?" Lily asked. Geoff rubbed his eyes.

"Last night. My house was attacked by Death Eaters."

"So were ours," said Lily, nodding at Mariah. "They got Mariah's dad."

"Why do you think--"

"Now you know I'm all for Death Eater-bashing, but might I point out that it  _ is _ Christmas," interrupted Joel from the doorway, raising his eyebrows. He yawned hugely as Claire pushed him into the room and towards an armchair. "You kids are awfully loud in the morning, you know that?"

Fleamont entered a moment later, and James began pulling the gifts out from under the tree to distribute them. Soon the floor was amassed with wrapping paper.

"Nice, I was needing one of these," James said, setting aside a freshly unwrapped Broomstick Servicing Kit. Sirius was reading the card on present after present and chucking them back over his shoulder without even opening them. Mariah glanced at Lily.

"Anything from your sister..." She broke off as Lily shook her head, her lips tight. Mariah sighed. "You're not alone." Lily glanced at her, and she mouthed,  _ 'Devon' _ , following it by placing a finger over her mouth. Lily bit her lip, but moved onto another parcel fast enough that the others didn't seem to notice their exchange.

Sirius glanced at Geoff, who was staring at the carpet despondently.

"What's the matter?" he asked. The rest of the group looked at Geoff, then at Sirius.

"Uh... Sirius..." started Lily. Geoff didn't look up.

"Nothing... it's just my parents, that's all. See you." He picked up his wand and walked back upstairs. Sirius looked back after him. 

"What, didn't they send you something? Mate, you can have one of these if you want," he picked up one of the discarded packages, "My parents sent me a bunch of useless junk I'd left around the house, amongst a bunch of bullshit from assorted relatives." They heard the door slam.

"I don't think he wants your gifts," said Claire softly from her perch on the chair's armrest.

Sirius turned back around, throwing the package from his family back over his shoulder and picking up a funny band James had gotten him. "Ah, well that's alright, they'd probably be cursed this year anyway," he said.

Lily sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sirius, his parents died in the Ministry raid."

Sirius paused, looking from Lily's exasperated face to Mariah, who was glaring at him. "I'm  _ sorry _ . I  _ forgot _ ," he said, flustered, holding up the band as if to wave the matter aside. "James, what  _ is _ this?" 

"A flea collar," said James shortly. Sirius looked back at it, interested.

"Oh..."

"You have a dog?" asked Mariah.

"Yeah... a very itchy one," said Sirius, putting the band aside, his eyes still on it.

Lily rolled her eyes and excused herself, following Geoff upstairs. She found him in the boys' room, sprawled out on the bed, picking absently at some peeling paint just above the headboard. She knocked on the door frame and he looked up at her, pushing himself up into a sitting position as she entered.

"Sorry about that," she said. "You know how Sirius is."

"Yeah, I know. It's fine. It's just weird not having them here, or being at my house..."

"Death Eaters attacked your house, right?" she asked, sitting beside him. "Do you have any idea why--"

"Not a clue," he said, shaking his head. "Joel and Claire were staying with me at the house -- they were best friends with my parents, and since my parents were killed in that last Ministry raid, I guess Joel and Claire were the targets."

"It's weird that your house was attacked, though," Lily said. "Mariah and I were both attacked last night, too, out of nowhere. What if they were after you, though, and not your parents' friends? But going after students..." She chewed her lip, thinking, but could not find a connection between the attacks. Abruptly, she stood. "Come on," she said. "Let's see if we can figure something out."

He stood and followed her back into the living room, where James and Sirius were still sifting through the pile of gifts, evidently sorting them out by recipient. Mariah was curled up on one end of the couch, flipping through a family photo album that Fleamont had handed her, listening to his running narrative of the photos from the other end of the couch.

Joel was seated in one of the squashy armchairs that flanked either side of the Christmas tree, the morning edition of the  _ Daily Prophet _ spread out in his lap. Claire was still perched on the armrest, though she was now sipping on a steaming mug of hot cider.

Geoff dropped himself onto the couch between Mariah and Fleamont. "Lily said you were attacked last night?"

"Yeah. Well, yesterday morning," she said. She looked down at the photo album in her hands, trailing a finger over a picture of a smiling Euphemia Potter raising up toddler James to put a star on the top of an enormous Christmas tree. "We were putting up some last-minute decorations when they showed up."

"It's Christmas!" Fleamont said suddenly. "We should be talking about happy things! Surely we can have one day without doom and gloom. Now, who wants some breakfast?"

"We need to talk about it, Fleamont," Joel said from his armchair, looking up from his newspaper. "The Death Eaters aren't going to rest, and neither should we!"

"For Christ's sake, Joel, you're acting like we're fighting a war."

"Aren't we?" he shot back. "Dumbledore seems to think so. He's already recruiting people to fight against the Dark Lord, so clearly  _ something _ is happening. If it's not war yet, it will be."

"And Voldemort's got followers at Hogwarts," Sirius chimed in as he tossed another package onto his pile of discarded gifts. "A bunch of the Slytherins go around making threats. The Lestrange brothers stood up and walked out of Defense Against the Dark Arts. What was it they said, Prongs? War was coming?"

"Yeah, something like that," James answered, picking up Sirius's latest rejected present and inspecting it. He rattled the small package next to his ear for a moment before shrugging and beginning to tear the paper off. "Told everyone to pick a side, and soon. No prizes for guessing whose side they're on. They and their whole gang would love to see all the Muggle-borns and half-bloods wiped out."

"Maybe that's why we were attacked," Lily said, looking at Mariah. "Because they want to get rid of anyone with mixed blood."

"But Geoff's a pureblood," Mariah said. She looked across at Claire and Joel. "What about you two? You were at Geoff's house last night, weren't you?"

Fleamont was frowning, reaching across Geoff to take his family photo album back from Mariah. "I hardly think this is an appropriate conversation for Christmas morning," he started, but Joel cut across him.

"Claire's father is a Muggle," he said. "But there's got to be more to it than that." He looked at Sirius. "You said the Slytherins have been making threats against the Muggle-borns?"

"Yeah, but nobody believes me when I try to tell them that they're up to something. Especially  _ those _ two," he added, nodding toward Geoff and Mariah.

Mariah's cheeks reddened, and she made to stand, but Lily stopped her.

"Sirius," she said flatly. "This isn't the time. Accept it and move on -- Mariah wants to be with Kurt, and Geoff wants to be with Emilie."

"Oh," Geoff started, "Emilie and I aren't exactly--"

"Fine," Sirius said, throwing his hands up into the air, sending yet another parcel flying. "I'll shut up about it. They can do whatever the hell they want, but when it turns out they've been played all along, all I'll have to say is 'I told you so.'"

"Okay, breakfast," Fleamont said loudly, standing and setting the photo album down on the coffee table a bit harder than necessary. "Who wants sausage, and who wants bacon? Oh, it's Christmas, I'll just make both--"

"Of course, there's always  _ Hellion Hexes _ ," Remus said quietly.

Joel glanced around at his wife and the girls, then shot a sideways look at Remus, clearing his throat. "I don't know that  _ Hellion Hexes _ is an appropriate topic for... mixed company."

"No, no, he has a point," Lily said, sitting up. "Mariah, Geoff, and I were all on a centerfold in it, and we all got attacked. Maybe it's a hit list or something?"

"We asked Emilie about it already," Geoff said, shaking his head. "She said it was just--"

"We don't have any other theories," Mariah interjected. "And remember, Emilie said Rosier would talk about 'tonight's target'? What other reason is there for the three of us to have been in that book?"

"I've got an idea," James said. "When we get back to school, you--" he pointed at Mariah "--get to interrogate Kurt about the book and find out what's going on. We already talked to Emilie, she didn't know anything. If it's a hit list, then there's the proof we need to say they're Death Eaters, or that they're not. Can everyone agree to that?"

"I say we just let Geoff beat it out of them," Sirius said, ripping off the wrappings of another package.

"I think I'll join Fleamont in the kitchen," Claire said loudly, sliding off her perch and exiting.

"Boys," Joel said, setting his newspaper aside and leaning forward. "And girls," he added, glancing at Mariah and Lily, "listen to me. Don't do anything reckless. If your friends in Slytherin are as harmless as you say they are, nothing bad should come from you asking them about the book. If you get into trouble, I want you to stop what you're doing and keep yourselves  _ safe _ . I want all of you to promise me you'll stay out of trouble. Okay? Okay. Now that my preaching is over, let's all go have some breakfast."

He stood and walked out of the room, leaving his newspaper behind in the chair. Slowly, the Marauders stood and followed.


	8. Bedtime, Morning, Noon, and Night

Their last night at the Potters' was a quiet one, as most every night had been since Christmas. The living room was crowded with trunks and bags. The day before, two men named Prewett had come by with Geoff's, Lily's, and Mariah's school things. Lily's family had not been harmed and the houses seemed to be empty. They had given no word on the search for Mariah's father before leaving.

Mariah couldn't sleep. She sat by the living room window staring out into the night sky. She stared hard for any movement, the flip of a wing, the flutter of a body...

"It would be here by now, you know," said a voice. Mariah turned around to see Sirius watching her from the staircase. Mariah didn't say anything, but went back to looking out of the window. She heard Sirius's footsteps and heard him drop into the armchair closest to her.

"Why are you up?" she asked.

"Eh, James was hogging the blankets," said Sirius. "You know, it would've taken that owl maybe a day to get there. If he hasn't replied by now, I think it's safe to assume you're not going to get anything before we're back on the train tomorrow."

Mariah didn't comment. Sirius was voicing a fear she had been feeling in the pit of her stomach ever since Christmas. As every day went by, she felt the anxiety gnawing at her, but tried to swallow it down. 

"You should get some sleep," said Sirius.

"Go ahead and say what you're trying to say, Sirius," said Mariah. 

"I'm just saying you should get some sleep. You'll probably see him on the train, anyway."

Mariah looked around at him, drawing her knees up to her chest. Sirius watched her.

"You told him what happened?" he asked. Mariah nodded. Sirius pushed his hair out of his face. "What a cunt."

"Sirius..." groaned Mariah. Sirius shrugged.

"No, really, if you told him about this and he didn't say anything, that makes him a cunt. Nevermind that he's probably a Death Eater, that's just rude."

"Who are you to judge when other people are being rude?" countered Mariah. 

"Mariah, I'm not even  _ trying _ to be a dick right now! How come you have to turn everything into an argument? Can't you see I'm on your side," said Sirius. Mariah sighed.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm just...not in the mood to talk about it."

"Look, Mariah, Dumbledore's got everyone out looking for your dad," said Sirius. "And as I can't remember the last time Dumbledore couldn't save the day, I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say everything's going to be alright." Mariah didn't say anything. She pulled her knees tighter to herself. Sirius seemed to notice her tensing and got to his feet. "Hey, come on." He sat down next to her and put his hands on her shoulders. She looked at him. "It's going to be alright, alright? Say it."

"It's going to be alright..." muttered Mariah unconvincingly. Sirius continued to stare at her.

"Got it?" he asked. Mariah stared back at him, nodding slowly. Sirius put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his chest. Neither of them said anything for a long while. She could hear him breathing slowly as they leaned against the windowpane in the dark living room. It was a moment before she realized she was nodding off, and she barely noticed him carry her back up to her room. 

She woke up the next morning to Euphemia knocking on her and Lily's door. 

They Apparated to King's Cross an hour or so later. Sirius, Geoff, and James helped Mariah and Lily load their belongings into a compartment and they all climbed in, soon joined by Peter and Remus as they arrived. Geoff left them to find Emilie after a while. Mariah lingered outside of the compartment on the platform looking for Kurt, but as the whistle blew she reluctantly boarded the train, taking a seat next to Sirius. 

The compartment was fairly cheerful with the arrival of Remus and Peter. They quickly filled them in on what had happened over break, though as James had sent a brief letter to each of them it was more detail-oriented and less of a shock. Mariah glanced at the compartment door every once in awhile, but once Sirius caught her eye halfway through the journey she stopped.

"I'm going to stretch my legs," she said after the witch with the snack cart had gone by. She let herself out into the hallway and began moving along the train. 

She glanced through the glass windows to each compartment as she passed, stopping finally as she heard Snape's voice muffled through a door. She could see four foggy figures, and clearly heard Emilie's voice responding to whatever Snape had said. The two of them laughed, and she heard a third voice join in then. It was Kurt, laughing away with them. The fourth figure she assumed to be Geoff at Emilie's side.

Mariah took the door handle, but hesitated. She heard them laugh again and removed her hand, turning and walking back up the hall towards the Marauders' compartment.

* * *

"...no, but really, you should have seen Bella's face when Naricissa followed Lucius out," Kurt said, recovering from his most recent bout of laughter. "And your  _ mum _ , Emilie -- how'd it go, Sev? What did her face look like?"

Snape's yellow grin was replaced by a look of mild perplexion, followed shortly by sheer horror, sending Emilie and Kurt into another fit of laughter. Geoff shifted uncomfortably beside Emilie and tried to crack a smile.

"You should have seen it, Mansfield," Kurt said, wiping a tear of mirth from the corner of his eye. "Madame Delacroix had this whole dinner party planned out, everything was perfect, everyone was supposed to behave themselves, it was supposed to be a nice evening... And then the guest of honor skips out before the first course even starts, Narcissa is giving Lucius a handjob under the table, this bloke Karkaroff kept drinking out of this flask he had and started yelling at everyone in Russian, Rodolphus was doing who-knows-what to Bellatrix the whole night, Lucius and Narcissa leave the table to go have a knee-trembler in the powder room, and then  _ Evan _ \--"

"Can we not?" Emilie interrupted with a pointed look, her good humor suddenly extinguished. She tugged on the sleeve of her robe, pulling it down a little further on her arm.

Geoff caught her hand and tugged the end of her sleeve up a bit, eying the bandages wrapped around her forearm and frowning. "What did Evan do to you, exactly? Must have been a pretty powerful hex, if it can't be healed with magic."

She jerked her arm away from him, ignoring the exchange of glances between Kurt and Severus. "I don't know," she said. "The curse just hit me in the arm and cut it up. Mum and Papa did what they could, but said it would just take time. And to keep it wrapped up, so it doesn't get infected or anything."

"Rosier's going to get it the next time I see him," Geoff said. "I'll give him more than just a broken nose."

"You Gryffindors are an awfully thick bunch," Snape drawled. "Look at what Evan did to Emilie, and they used to be  _ friends _ . Just imagine what he'd do to  _ you _ ."

Geoff conceded that Snape was right, and the rest of the train ride was fairly quiet. Once they had arrived at Hogsmeade station and taken the horseless carriages up to the castle, Geoff and Emilie went their separate ways in the Great Hall.

"Meet me after dinner, will you?" he asked.

She nodded and gave him a quick smile before following Kurt and Severus to the Slytherin table while Geoff took his place with the Marauders.

"So, when are you going to tell him?" Kurt muttered, lightly touching his fingers to Emilie's forearm. "You can't keep it wrapped up forever."

She jerked her arm away from him, folding her arms across her chest and frowning. "When are  _ you _ going to tell Mariah?" she asked. "I'm not the only one in this group with conflicting interests, you know."

"Who said anything about conflicting interests?" Kurt asked, raising his eyebrows as he seated himself on the long bench on one side of Severus while Emilie seated herself on the other. "You think being with Manic Mansfield is incompatible with your... other lifestyle choices?"

"Like Jiggery Jaeger's friends are going to let her hang around you with your new tattoo," she shot back.

"We're all adults here," he said. "Mariah hangs around with who she likes, and that happens to be me, tattoo or no."

Severus heaved a rather pointed sigh, and moments later food materialized on the dishes in front of them. The atmosphere in the Great Hall was cheery, students chattering loudly with each other about the holidays, everyone refreshed and significantly more upbeat after having seen their families over the break, although an anxious undercurrent rippled through the school as the evening wore on and rumors of attacks spread. In a brief lull between dinner and the dessert course, Dumbledore rose from his seat at the elevated staff table and gave a few brief words of welcome to the students, sitting back down just as puddings and tarts and cakes appeared on the tables.

At the Gryffindor table, dinner proceeded quietly, and Mariah couldn't bring herself to eat more than one plate. She glanced at the Slytherin table every five minutes or so, but Kurt was blocked by a group of students at the Ravenclaw table and she couldn't catch his eye. When the desserts finally vanished and everyone got to their feet, she headed out of the hall ahead of the rest of the Gryffindor table, lingering at the door while the rest of the students slowly filed out. 

Kurt and Severus emerged together as the majority of the Slytherin table reached the door, and Mariah followed them.

"Kurt." 

Kurt turned around, grinning and walking towards her.

"Mariah, I was wondering where you were." He nodded once to Severus, who continued towards the dungeons with the rest of the Slytherins. Mariah watched Severus leave warily, but frowned.

"I was on the train," she said shortly. Kurt moved in to kiss her, but she pulled back. "Did you get my owl?" Kurt's smile faltered. 

"I did," he said. 

"Why didn't you answer me?" demanded Mariah, a bit louder than she had intended. Kurt took her arm and steered her down a side corridor and into an empty classroom. He turned around to face her once he had shut the door and locked it.

"Mariah...when I went home, my father had plans for me," he said slowly. "We were summoned to the Delacroix's house." He began to roll up the sleeve of his left arm. Mariah's eyes flickered from Kurt's face to his forearm and back. There was a bandage around his arm. Kurt began to unwind it.

"No..." said Mariah faintly, reaching her hands to her face as the small red tattoo was uncovered on Kurt's skin. "No no no..." Kurt looked up at her with a pained expression.

"Mariah, please, I didn't want it," he said quickly. "We always talked about this, you know I have no allegiances made up."

"Then why is it right there!?" cried Mariah, pointing at his arm. "Why did you get that!?"

"I didn't have a choice," said Kurt, a bit more forcefully. "My father--"

"Then why didn't you leave? Sirius left his family because of what they were doing, why couldn't you?" Tears had glossed over her eyes in her frustration. "Did they drag you in there and force you to get that  _ thing _ , or did you just walk right in after your f-father--"

"Because you'll be safer with me on this side of the line than the other way around," said Kurt sharply. 

"Safer!?" Mariah was beginning to sound hysterical. "They attacked me! They attacked m-my house! They took my dad! I don't know where he is! I don't know whether he's alive or d-d-dead..." She broke off in a sob. "And you weren't even there for me! You didn't say a word! You just went ahead and j-joined them while I was nearly killed! And now you're saying it's because I would be  _ safer _ ?"

Mariah shoved him hard, and he staggered back. She moved to shove him again, but he caught her hands. She struggled to fight free for a moment but gave up, ducking her head and collapsing into tears. It seemed that all of the stress and worry was closing in on her at once, blinding her in pressure. She pressed her head into Kurt's chest and he let go of her wrists, hugging her tightly to him. A few minutes went by where she cried into his robes, his hands running up and down her shoulders and her hair. When her sobs had subsided considerably he ventured to speak again.

"Mariah, I promise you, I had nothing to do with the attack on your house." He felt her fingers tighten around handfuls of his robes. "But I'll do everything I can to find your father," he finished. "I'll ask around. I'll find him. It'll be alright." He ran his fingers over her hair. "It'll be alright," he said again.

Mariah didn't look at him. Tears ran silently down her face as she looked at the place where Kurt's robes were still pushed up around his elbows. The burnt skull and snake stared back at her, and she couldn't quite let go of the icy feeling in her chest as Kurt held her there tightly with his hands stroking her hair.

* * *

Emilie found Geoff waiting for her in the Entrance Hall, and allowed him to take her hand and lead her up one corridor and down another until the sounds of the other students dwindled in the distance. The Slytherin girl watched him from the corner of her eye as they walked and noted that he seemed a little on edge, his eyes roaming the corridor, lingering briefly on everything but her, his palm sweating lightly in her hand as they walked on in silence.

"Everything all right?" she asked after a few minutes.

"Fine," he said, though his voice sounded choked. He cleared his throat. "Fine," he repeated, his voice stronger. "I just... there's something I wanted to ask you."

"Ask away," she said. "I'm an open book."

He opened his mouth as if to say something, closed it as if he'd thought better of it, then opened it to try again. "Here," he said, seating himself on a low bench in one of the corridor's small alcoves, pulling her down to sit beside him. The weak silver light of the moon outside filtered in through a window above them, casting the alcove into a pale light. "Listen," he went on, still clutching both of her hands in his. "I've been doing a lot of thinking. I want to give us a real chance."

"Didn't we have this conversation already?" she asked. "Ages ago, when you asked if we could ever be friends?"

She saw his ears flush in the semidarkness. "That's not... I meant give us a real chance as... as more than friends."

She grinned sheepishly at him. "Geoff... I thought we were already more than friends."

The Gyffindor's shoulders relaxed as he heaved a sigh of relief and began to laugh out loud. He reached up to touch the side of her face and leaned forward as if to kiss her, but the sound of a heavy door opening somewhere down the corridor and footsteps heading their way caught both of their attention. As one, they turned their heads and stared into the darkness of the corridor, hardly daring to breathe as they waited.

"Students out of bed? Where are they, my sweet?"

Filch.

Geoff grabbed Emilie's hand and yanked her up off the bench, and the two of them sprinted down the corridor, ignoring Filch as he shouted behind them, the caretaker's pace quickening as he took off running after them, Mrs. Norris yowling behind him. They rounded a corner and in the silence that followed, they thought they'd lost him for a moment, only to hear a low chuckle from overhead. Geoff and Emilie looked up to see Peeves drifting upside down in the air above them, a broad grin on the poltergeist's face.

"Manic Mansfield and the Pestiferous Pureblood creeping through the castle," he murmured. He tutted at them, wagging one of his short fingers in mock disapproval. "Should tell Filch, I should. Rule-breakers shan't get off scot-free..."

As Peeves took a deep breath, clearly mustering his loudest voice to most effectively alert Filch, Geoff whipped out his wand and muttered " _ Aguamenti, _ " sending a jet of water directly into Peeves' face, leaving the Poltergeist coughing and spluttering as the two students took off running again, laughing as they heard Peeves shouting after them, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED! FOURTH FLOOR CORRIDOR! STUDENTS OUT OF BED!"

They heard Filch's footsteps pounding down a side corridor, the caretaker evidently having taken a shortcut, and ducked into an empty classroom, shutting the door behind them as quickly and quietly as they could, laughter dying on their lips as they waited, grinning at each other through the darkness, listening. They heard Peeves fly past, still shouting, and seconds later heard Filch's footsteps thunder past behind the Poltergeist. Several more seconds passed, and still there was silence, broken only by their heavy breathing as they caught their breath.

The next thing Emilie knew, Geoff's lips were pressed firmly against hers as he pushed her back against the wall, his hands cupping the sides of her face as her lips parted, allowing his tongue to enter her mouth. Her teeth grazed his lower lip as her hands clutched at the back of his robes, pulling him closer. One of his hands dropped from her jaw and slipped down her body, coming to rest on her hip for a moment before traveling to the front of her shirt, his fingers fumbling with the buttons of the blouse beneath her sweater.

She shrugged her arms out of the sleeves of her school robes, allowing them to fall to the floor, pushing Geoff away long enough to grab the bottom of her sweater and yank it over her head. Once the sweater was on the floor beside her robes, the Gryffindor spun her around, lifting her to sit on top of a nearby desk and catching her mouth with his once more before returning his attention to the buttons on her blouse.

"Geoff," she said softly, grinning as she reached for his belt, "I think we're definitely more than friends."


	9. Double Dealings, Doubled

As the new term began, the teachers wasted no time in immersing the students back into their lessons, particularly Professor Delaprec, who seemed to believe that his Defense Against the Dark Arts was the only course his students were taking, as it was of utmost importance. Before the end of the month, the weekends already found them straining under mountains of homework, tucked away in warm common rooms and the coziest corners of the library. News of the string of Death Eater attacks on Christmas Eve had spread through the school like wildfire; Lily, Geoff, and Mariah, it seemed, were not the only ones who had been targeted. The victims of the attacks had banded together, nearly all of them having been invited to join the Order of the Phoenix by Dumbledore, and were hardly ever seen wandering the hallways alone.

The sudden sense of fellowship between those attacked was rivaled in intensity only by the ever-increasing rift between the Slytherins and the rest of the school. Mariah had told Lily about Kurt's Dark Mark, pleading with her not to tell Sirius. But Sirius, suspicious as ever, had sensed that someone was not telling him something, and managed to weasel it out of Lily. Sirius had remained relatively quiet about it and hadn't approached Mariah directly, but never missed an opportunity to discuss his latest opinions on Slytherins loudly with James whenever Mariah was in earshot.

Geoff and Emilie, on the other hand, had become nearly inseparable since the end of break.

"Mariah said Kurt told her he went to the  _ Delacroix's _ to get his Dark Mark," Sirius was constantly telling him. "Don't you think there's a chance that she might have one, too?"

"She doesn't," Geoff would say. "Rosier attacked her  _ because _ she doesn't have one. She's not like the rest of them."

"Or  _ maybe _ she's kept her arm wrapped up because she doesn't want you to see her new tattoo."

But Geoff was content to ignore Sirius and continue to spend his afternoons and evenings sitting in the library or walking around the snowy grounds with Emilie, stealing kisses in empty classrooms and avoiding Filch during after-curfew excursions.

It was after one of these such excursions that Emilie returned to the Slytherin common room, cheeks flushed and grinning broadly, that she found Kurt and Severus waiting for her, playing chess near the fireplace. They gestured at the third, empty chair beside them, turning their own chairs to face her as she sat, setting their chess game aside.

"It looks like the two of you are staging some kind of intervention," she said, her smile fading. "What's it about?"

"It's about you and Mansfield," Severus said.

Emilie groaned. "What  _ about _ me and Mansfield? It's my business who I go around with, isn't it? And anyway, what about Kurt and Mariah?"

"I told Mariah about my Mark," Kurt said quietly. "And she knows I was at your house when I got it."

The boys waited for a moment while Emilie digested this. "So," she said slowly, "what you're saying is..."

"Sooner or later, she's going to spread the word to Potter and his gang, if she hasn't already. And one of them will work out that if your parents hosted the annual office Christmas party, you've probably got a Mark, too. Imagine how devastated Mansfield will be, knowing his girlfriend signed up with the people who killed his parents."

She looked helplessly from one boy to the other, but neither gave her reassurance. "It's not like I had much of a  _ choice _ \--"

"Do you really expect us to believe you'd have chosen differently?" Severus asked, cocking an eyebrow.

She looked down at her hands in her lap for a moment, frowning. "What does this have to do with me and Geoff?" she asked, looking back up at them. "So what if I'm going around with him? It's not like he's a danger to the cause or anything. We're still in  _ school _ , for Christ's sake. It's not like he's gone off and joined the Muggleborn Protection Committee or something. As far as anyone's concerned, he's still neutral."

"Being neutral doesn't make him an ally to the cause," Kurt said. "Not that he'd align himself with the side responsible for killing his parents. And besides that, you know how Rosier is about things. If he sees Mansfield as an enemy because he hasn't declared public allegiance to the cause, then you're an enemy by association, with or without that Mark on your arm, as long as you're going around with him."

"Then what am I supposed to do? You're in the same boat as me, Kurt. Mariah's not exactly jumping to get her arm branded."

He shrugged. "Keep your distance for a while. Let Evan think you're back on our side."

"I  _ am _ on your side! I always have been!"

"Then prove it," Severus interjected. "Make up with Rosier. Get back in his good graces. This isn't going to end after we all graduate. If Rosier has any reason to doubt your allegiance once we're out of here--"

"--he can report you to the Dark Lord or one of his lieutenants," Kurt finished. "And then where will you be? Branded as a traitor, and as good as dead."

"So, what, I'm just supposed to tell Geoff we're through, no explanation?"

"He probably won't want anything to do with you once he knows about  _ that _ ," Kurt said pointedly, nodding towards Emilie's arm. "But on the off-chance that he  _ does _ still want to play nice, you're going to have to distance yourself. Convince Rosier it's an act and show him you're a team player again."

"Fine," she said. "I'll do what I have to. Now, if you'll excuse me."

She stood and walked down the short corridor that housed the girls' dormitories, leaving the boys to return to their chess game. After she undressed and climbed into bed, pulling the green curtains closed around her four-poster, she lay awake in the darkness, wondering how Geoff would take the news of her decided allegiance.

* * *

Peter Pettigrew often made it a point not to wander the castle alone. His spellwork was notoriously poor and he often forgot the castle's secret passageways best used for an escape. With James, Sirius, and Remus, he had been guaranteed safe passage to and from his classes and the common room. Even with Lily and Mariah, that only strengthened his protection, as they were no damsels in distress. However, it was by no mistake that Peter had wound up halfway up the staircase to the Astronomy Tower after dinner one night. 

His footsteps echoed off the arched stone walls as he huffed and puffed his way up the stairs. He had purposefully avoided Astronomy because of this staircase. Grasping at the wall, Peter heaved his way onto the landing, breathing hard. He braced himself on his knees, but footsteps nearby made him look up.

"Took you long enough," said Kurt. "Did your friends notice?"

"Told 'em I had to talk to McGonagall about a test," said Peter, still panting. He straightened up. "They don't notice much of what I do anyway."

"Apparently not," said Kurt. "That is, as long as you are still faithful to our agreement." Peter nodded so fast that his multiple chins flopped against each other.

"I don't want to be jumped, and from what I've heard, you've all got more backup lately, don't you." Kurt laughed at the look on Peter's face.

"Rumor does have it," he agreed. "Then again, we can't be sure, can we?"

"Can he really read minds?" asked Peter after a moment. Kurt raised an eyebrow at him.

"How should I know?" he asked. 

"I heard--"

"These are rumors, Pettigrew."

"Sirius has been saying you've a mark," said Peter. Kurt frowned.

"Black has been saying that all year," he said shortly. "Do get to the point, Pettigrew, I don't have all night. What did you want?"

"I've been thinking," said Peter. Kurt's mouth twitched, but Peter went on. "I've been thinking about my political views lately."

"Your political views."

"I mean, he's been gaining a lot of power lately, hasn't he? I read in the  _ Prophet _ that he's already got magical creatures forming an army for him."

"And what do you think about that?" asked Kurt.

"I think it's intimidating," said Peter. "Friends and their families are already being attacked. I thought everything worked out pretty well with me stealing the book for you in exchange for your protection, I thought maybe we could work out some kind of long-term agreement."

"What sort of long-term agreement, Pettigrew? In the real world, you mean?"

"For my mother and I," said Peter. "I uh...thought that maybe I could do something for you in exchange--"

"And what would that be?" asked Kurt. Peter paused, at a loss. Kurt grinned. "I'll let you know, Pettigrew. I'm sure we could find some use for you. In the meantime, you keep quiet about our last arrangement, or you're our next target."

He strode past Pettigrew and out of the Astronomy Tower. Though he was no longer winded from the trek up, Peter collapsed against the wall, breathing hard.

* * *

Later in the week, Lily didn't show up to Transfiguration. When she wasn't at Charms, James left mid-class to look for her. By the time class was over, he had returned with the news that there had been an attack, and that Lily had had to fight off five Slytherins as they assaulted Alice Prewett, a few Hufflepuffs, and a Ravenclaw in the hall. 

Eight beds were occupied in the Hospital Wing, Lily at the far left at Alice Prewett's bedside, next to Frank Longbottom. Alice was conscious when they arrived, but crying. She was doubled up in pain, holding Frank's hand. 

"Alice, what happened?" asked Sirius.

"S-Slytherins," she said, coughing suddenly. Frank's face was set so sharply he looked carved out of stone.

"It was some kind of ambush," said Lily. "They leapt out of nowhere and disarmed everyone. I just happened 'round on the way to class, and it was lucky I did. They got them in the third-floor corridor."

"Look around, don't you see it? They're all Muggle-borns," said Frank in an undertone, nodding at the rest of the beds. They looked around quickly. 

"I don't know half these people," said Sirius. "They're all from other houses."

"I know one or two of them, and I can assume the rest," said James. 

"But Alice isn't," noted Remus. 

"Do we know who it was who attacked them?" asked Mariah. Alice shook her head, but it was Frank who answered. 

"They wore hoods," he said. "There's no proving they were even in Slytherin."

"Beyond the fact that there are no Slytherins here," muttered Sirius. 

"Without that book, I don't think we're going to be able to prove anything," said James. Geoff looked at him.

"What?  _ Hellion Hexes _ ?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" asked Frank. 

"Mariah here was reading it, I assume for her own pleasure, and found a foldout that not only featured herself, but also Lily and Geoff here. All three of them were attacked over Christmas; we think it might be some kind of hitlist."

"Was Alice on it?" asked Frank.

"I don't know," said Mariah. "Someone broke in and stole it a little before break."

"Right, well that sounds like evidence to me," said Frank. "I agree. In order to get any kind of proof, we're going to need to steal that book back."

"How do we even know they have it? It was stolen, it could have been anyone," piped up Peter. 

"True, but who else would steal it?" muttered Remus.

"It's a  _ very _ popular book," said Peter.

"We have to find it," said James dryly. 

"We don't know where it is," said Remus.

"We know where it is, we know the Slytherins have it," said Sirius. "Probably Rosier."

"So what are you going to do, go rummage through the Slytherin dormitories all night?" asked Remus.

"Rosier's a good starting point," said Geoff. 

"And  _ we _ are not going to rummage, we're going to sneak in," said Sirius. He glanced at Mariah, who looked back at Alice. She was breathing softly, and had fallen asleep. 

"Mariah, if you could distract Kurt that would be ideal," said James.

"Yeah, he'd be the first to notice if something was going on," said Remus. Mariah felt an uneasy twinge, but glanced at Lily and bit it back. 

"Geoff, if you could cover Emilie--"

"No, I'm coming with you. Emilie doesn't have it, none of the girls do. There'd be no point in searching their dormitory," said Geoff quickly.

"Geoff, if we're really doing this it'd be great to cover as much ground as possible," repeated Sirius slowly.

"How else are you going to get into the common room? You don't even know where it is," said Geoff.

"Well that's not exactly true," muttered Sirius, but Remus waved him aside. 

"We'll work out the details later," he said, somewhat exasperated. He glanced at Mariah. "If you could get as much information as possible out of Kurt about this attack, Mariah, and try to search his room while you're--"

"Yeah," she said. "No problem."

She didn't sound convincing, even to herself.


	10. Musical Chairs, Part I

"This was such a bad idea."

"OW--that's my foot, Mansfield!"

"You just screamed that in my ear, Sirius. Never mind that we're invisible and shouldn't be talking at  _ all _ \--"

"Shhhhut up, Remus!"

"Your foot is showing, Peter!"

"Oh! Sorry!"

"Quiet!"

"Shhh!"

"WHOSSAT!?"

Nobody moved. Then, as one, the small mob of boys shuffled into a corner behind a statue of a humpbacked wizard with daisies springing from his ears and nostrils. They pressed together, sucking their guts in. It was one thing to fit the four Marauders under the cloak on a regular basis- usually one or two of them volunteered to hang back. It had been easier when they were younger, but the added height of puberty had made traveling under the cloak much riskier than it had been. Now, with the addition of Geoff, they found a group of five to be a bit of a crowd. 

Lamplight flooded the floor before them and they held their breaths. Filch slunk by, sniffing the air as though he could seek out trespassers by the smell of their fear alone. It took a few minutes, but Filch finally passed by and the light disappeared around the corner. The boys breathed again.

"Right, I reckon we're close," said James, pulling out a large piece of parchment. Geoff watched him unfold it.

"What is that?" he asked. James glanced at him.

"Nothing," he said, returning his attention to the map. He muttered under his breath with his wand tip against the parchment and suddenly ink crawled out from the center like a spiderweb, bleeding over the surface right to the edges. Geoff stared, and he gasped as he recognized the pattern of the webbing.

"Is that a map of the school?" he asked, but Sirius shushed him, bending over the parchment with James. 

"Rosier's in his room," he noted. 

"Snape's still up," muttered James. "We'll have to wait for him to leave. Of course he'd be the insomniac."

"Wish we could get Mariah to do something about it," said Remus. "Where is she?"

"She's with Kurt," said James. "Oh..."

"Oh what?" asked Sirius.

"That's probably why Snape's still out there. They share a dormitory, don't they?"

There was a very uncomfortable exchange of glances, and a groan from Sirius.

"But you said Rosier was in his room!" James consulted the map again.

"Oh...that's not his room...that's Marcia Snook's..."

They looked at each other. 

"What do we do?" asked Geoff. 

"We need to get him out of there," said Remus. "Geoff, I think we're going to have to send you in to find Emilie. Try to distract Snape or get him out of there so we can look around. We'll follow you. You know the password?"

"I think so," said Geoff, trying to distinguish the most recent Slytherin password from a long string of offensive magical objects, ingredients, and slurs that had been the rotation of passwords from the rest of the year. 

"Right, let's get close and then you can go ahead," said James, folding the map in one hand. 

They crept out from behind the humpbacked statue and made their way down the sloping hall towards the dungeons. They were just around the corner from the wall that opened to the Slytherin common room when a sound made them stop in their tracks and press against the stone wall. A cackle followed by the clang of crumbling armor echoed down the halls and they glanced at each other in panic. 

" _ Shit _ ! It's Peeves! He'll lead Filch right to us!" hissed James. He pulled out his wand and steadied his aim at the corner of the hall just as Peeves swooped around it. He began looping the hall in wider and wider swoops, coming dangerously close to them. James hissed a spell and Peeves's hand suddenly began punching himself in the face repeatedly. Peeves cursed and stopped his swooping, staring around for the culprit, but the punching hand was too distracting and he flew off, still fighting it. 

A shadow caught James's eye and he saw Mrs. Norris flit around the corner after Peeves.

"Shit shit shit shit..." James hurriedly stuffed his wand into his pocket but the map slipped out of his grasp and slid out from under the cloak. They heard footsteps.

"Get it,  _ get it _ ," hissed Sirius, pushing Peter out from under the cloak. Peter grabbed the paper and put his wand to it quickly, stammering, "Mischief managed," just as a light rounded the corner. 

"Thought we'd take a tour of the castle, did we?" Filch. He bore down on Peter as the shortest Marauder stood rooted to the spot, clasping the map tightly in his hands. "What's this then?" asked Filch, ripping it from his fingers. He unfolded it, turned it over, then folded it back up and shoved it in his pocket. "Thought you'd pull some prank, aye? Don't lie! I've got you now, boy. I've always known you were as bad as the rest of 'em. Filthy, lying, leaving dungbombs all over my office, buckets full of rabid newts--"

Filch seized Peter by the scruff of his robes and marched him down the hall, still listing personal offenses caused by three of the boys still hidden under the cloak in the dark behind them. It was a long time before they breathed again, and even longer before they continued their journey.

They had lost the map. Outside the common room, they decided Geoff should go in and make sure the coast was clear, as he had the best excuse. Geoff glanced back at the empty air behind him before clearly stating the password ( _ basilisk _ ) __ to the wall before him. It swung open with barely a creak, and he proceeded inside, sensing rather than hearing the footsteps that followed him.

Snape's dark eyes flicked up from his textbook and fixated on Geoff, his thin lips forming a scowl beneath his hooked nose. "Mansfield."

"Er -- hi, Snape. Severus?" He gave a hopeful, tentative smile which the Slytherin boy did not return, his pallid features still frowning across the common room. Geoff's smile evaporated and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "The lighting in here is... unique?" he tried, gesturing at the greenish windows. "I guess we're under the lake? Do the merpeople have some kind of bioluminescent--"

"As  _ riveting _ as your small talk is, Mansfield, I'd much rather you shut it and get out of my common room. What are you doing in here, anyway?"

"Looking for Emilie."

Snape cocked an eyebrow, unconvinced. "She isn't here. She's at the library. You two didn't make plans to meet tonight?"

"I thought I'd stop by and surprise her." 

"Well, surprise, she isn't here. There's the door." Snape jerked his head in the direction of the common room's entrance, indicating the door's location with his abnormally large nose as he idly flipped a page in his book.

Several moments passed in which Geoff stood rooted to the spot, opening and closing his mouth several times as he tried to think of anything else to say to stall. He heard a muffled curse behind him as an end table shook, rattling the lamp that sat on it, as one of the Marauders presumably bumped into it under the cloak on their slow trek toward the dormitories. Snape's dark eyes darted up from his book and narrowed as they landed on Geoff, who abruptly jumped backward nearly a foot, grunting in pain and clutching at his leg. "Ran into a table," he said quickly as the Slytherin frowned at him. "There's so much furniture in here -- don't see how you lot manage to walk around without running into anything, ha ha..."

The weak laugh died on his lips under Snape's glare, and the ginger Gryffindor quickly turned and fled the common room, hoping the others knew what they were doing.

Once the wall panel that served as the entrance had shut behind Geoff, Snape snapped his book shut and rose from his seat, drawing his wand from an inner pocket of his robes as he began prowling around the common room. Something was amiss, and he'd bet all the Galleons in Gringotts that James Potter and Sirius Black were behind it.

James Potter and Sirius Black, meanwhile, had managed to steer themselves, Remus, and the cloak to the other side of the common room without running into any other furniture, and were deliberating in low tones whether the boys' dormitory was down the stairs to the left or to the right while Remus served as lookout, keeping a wary eye on Snape as the Slytherin made his rounds through the common room, prodding and poking at pillows, chairs, lamps, and even empty air on occasion.

"It's the left, Padfoot," James muttered. "That's how it is in Gryffindor Tower."

"Prongs, have you ever even  _ looked _ at our map?" Sirius hissed back. "The  _ girls'  _ dormitories are to the left down here."

"I don't make a habit of checking up on the blighters every night before bedtime and memorizing their House layout! I'm telling you, boys' dorms are to the left."

"Check up on them? I don't check--"

Remus elbowed the both of them to silence them as Snape's greasy head swiveled around to look in their direction. He silently pointed to the hallway on the left, and the three of them shuffled their way to the stairs, heading down further into the dungeons. The first door they passed was labeled  _ First Year Girls _ , and after quite a bit of shuffling around, the three of them managed an about-face and headed back up the stairway, Remus now leading them. The worn dungeon steps were not the most even of stairs, and just as they topped the staircase and were about to emerge back into the common room, Remus tripped over the top stair, tumbling out from under the cloak and crashing into a nearby chair.

Sirius and James took one look at Snape's face as the Slytherin turned sharply at the noise, wand raised, and they quickly began scrambling to try and cover their friend back with the cloak before Snape spotted them, but it was too late. His yellow teeth bared in a triumphant grin, Snape swooped down on to Remus, grabbing the Gyffindor by the collar of his robes as he regained his feet.

"Well, well, first Mansfield and now Lupin. Potter and Black must be around here, too. Where are they?"

"M-Mansfield was here?" Remus asked, trying to affect a look of surprise. "Must have been to visit his girlfriend, I don't know anything--"

"Don't lie to me, Lupin, I know you're all up to something, and I'm going to find out what it is. Now where are Potter and Black?"

"Haven't seen them all night--"

" _ Where are Potter and Black _ ?"

Remus's eyes flicked involuntarily over Snape's shoulder at the spot where Potter and Black had last been, and the Slytherin was turned around in an instant, flinging Remus vaguely in the direction of one of the many elegant chaises strewn about the common room as he threw himself toward the spot. His grasping hands met only empty air, however, as James and Sirius had crept over to the other staircase and disappeared down it.

Snape rounded back toward Remus and bellowed, " _ WHERE ARE POTTER AND BLACK _ ?"

Meanwhile, down the staircase to the boys' dormitories, James was wrestling with having left Remus behind to deal with Snape. A few curious Slytherin boys had poked their heads out of their bedrooms, looking up and down the hallway for the source of the commotion, though most of the younger ones quickly ducked back into their dormitories.

"D'you really think we should have left Moony up there? We were already down two from our original five," James muttered. "Now it's just going to be the two of us poking around."

"Moony can handle Snivellus," Sirius reassured him. A pair of Slytherin upperclassmen passed by them, discussing amongst themselves what the shouting could be about, and Sirius was thankful that he was invisible, otherwise James might have seen the look of doubt that flickered across his face. "Besides," he went on as they continued down the stairs, hugging closer to the wall as a few more Slytherins passed them, "five of us would have just been tripping over each other down here. This will be much more efficient, trust me."

"Whatever y--" James was cut off as Mulciber came barreling up the staircase, attracted by Snape's shouting, running headfirst into him and knocking him out from under the cloak.

The Slytherin threw out an instinctive hand and caught James by the front of his robes before he hit the stone steps, staring at him for a moment before recognition dawned. "Potter?" He stared at him blankly for a moment, then his eyes narrowed as more shouting erupted from the common room. "What in Merlin's name is--"

"Just checking up on you lot, making sure you're still here." James said hurriedly. "And look at that, you are! I'll just be heading back--"

"I don't think so." Mulciber shoved him up the stairs toward the common room, following close behind him, leaving Sirius to finish the last few meters to the seventh years' dormitory alone.


	11. Musical Chairs, Part II

The door for  _ Seventh Year Boys _ was ajar when Sirius reached it, and he pressed himself flat against the wall next to it in case another Slytherin came barreling through. He inched closer, hearing voices, and peeked around the corner. The beds were empty as far as he could see, save for one where Mariah and Kurt were sitting up under the sheets, staring right at him. He shook off the awkwardness, with a shudder.

“I’ll be right back,” Kurt was saying, extricating himself from his sheets, but Sirius saw Mariah quickly pull him back.

“No, don’t go,” she said. “I mean…let’s take advantage of this.”

“Of what?” asked Kurt. Mariah gestured at all of the empty beds. Sirius rolled his eyes. Of course. He saw Kurt grin as he moved in to kiss her. 

For a few awkward seconds, they made out on the bed in front of him while he stared in disgust. Then he saw Mariah's arm periodically waving around the air beside the bed, and he crept forward and touched her hand. Her eye opened for a split second glancing to where he stood, invisible. 

"On second thought, you should probably go," she said quickly, pushing Kurt off of her. Kurt gave her a look.

"Um...okay then." Kurt eased himself off of Mariah and got out of bed, heading for the door. Sirius was relieved to see that he was wearing pants. They waited until the door had closed behind him, then Mariah pointed at a bed in the corner.

"That one's Rosier's. I checked his trunk while Kurt was going to the bathroom, but it could be underneath." 

Sirius crouched down and bent his head to the ground to look under Rosier's bed. There were a lot of magazines, but no books in sight.

"Nothing," he said, struggling to get back to his feet with the cloak on. He stepped on it and it slid off as he stood. "Dammit--PANTS, JAEGER!"

"Wha--Sirius!" Mariah grabbed the sheet off the bed and wrapped it around her as she stood. "It was  _ you _ !? I thought it was  _ James _ ! Or Remus or someone!" 

"Why would that be any better!?" exclaimed Sirius. "Why aren't you wearing pants!?" 

"You told me to distract him!" 

"Not like  _ that _ !"

"Well, I was afraid you might get caught!"

"We  _ are _ getting caught!"

They both heard footsteps outside, and Sirius quickly dove under Kurt's bed, wrenching the Invisibility Cloak back on just as the door opened. 

Kurt’s books from what looked like his entire school career were strewn in haphazard stacks beneath the bedframe, piling almost to the mattress. Sirius wriggled further in to make room for himself, watching Kurt's feet approach the bed.

"They've got Potter and Lupin upstairs. Any idea why your friends were trying to break into our dormitories?" he asked sharply.

"I don't know, could it have to do with Alice Prewett, Frank Longbottom, and the six Muggle-borns lying unconscious in the Hospital Wing right now?" asked Mariah.

"True," said Kurt, and Sirius felt an urge to punch him. Rolling his eyes, he saw a familiar book spine out of the corner of his eye.

"Can you please tell your squad to go easy on them?" asked Mariah. "Please, Kurt, they're my friends."

"I'll see what I can do," said Kurt. "But first, let's see what you can do." 

"Oh--" 

The bedsprings dipped and Sirius bit back a curse as they smacked him in the head. He was trying to clear off the pile of heavy books stacked on top of  _ Hellion Hexes _ as quietly as he could. A particularly heavy history book about the Goblin Wars slipped his grip, but a moan from Kurt masked the noise. Sirius gagged and took another book from the stack. The mattress hit him again. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then shoved another few books out of the way. He grabbed  _ Hellion Hexes _ and shoved it into his robes, shimmying out from under the bed. He put a hand by his face as he emerged so he wouldn't see whatever was happening in the bed, and walked quickly to the door. 

Just as he reached it, the door swung wide open, catching him full on in the face and sending him staggering backwards. 

"Lovell, get up here!" said Avery. 

"I'm busy!" said Kurt without moving.

"Whatever, mate, you're going to mess Sev giving those punks what they deserve."

"Fine."

"Kurt," said Mariah expectantly. Kurt made a disgruntled sound and threw back the sheets. Sirius was relieved to see that he was still wearing pants. Kurt followed Avery out of the room, swinging the door shut behind him. Sirius wrenched the cloak off as Mariah pulled a shirt on.

"YOU ARE THE WORST PERSON! THE  _ WORST PERSON! _ WHAT WAS  _ THAT _ !?" he hissed as loudly as he could without screaming.

"WHAT ELSE WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO!?" 

"CAN'T YOU KEEP YOUR CLOTHES ON FOR TWO MINUTES!?"

"YOU'RE ONE TO TALK!"

"WHA-- I-- THAT'S NOT THE POINT, WE NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE!"

"You found it?" Mariah looked completely surprised. Sirius pulled it out of his robes and held it up.

"Uh, yeah!" he said pointedly. Mariah got out of bed and Sirius closed his eyes. "GOD-- _ PANTS _ , JAEGER!"

"Oh--" 

Sirius didn't open his eyes until he felt the book leave his hand. Mariah was looking at it. 

"Was under his bed," said Sirius.

"I didn't think..."

Footsteps and voices were nearing. Sirius threw the cloak back on and tried to take the book.

"Give it here!"

"No," said Mariah.

"What are you doing?" hissed Sirius. The door opened and Kurt walked in.

"Severus is pretty manic right now, I don't think I can talk him down."

"What is this?" asked Mariah coolly, holding up  _ Hellion Hexes _ . "Last I saw it was in my room. You know, right before it was broken into."

"That wasn't my fault!" said Kurt, his voice rising. "I was nowhere near it, I only heard--"

"So you're saying the Slytherins  _ did _ break into my room. Did you laugh about it with them later so they wouldn't ostracize you?" asked Mariah.

"You know why I have that book? Because the others were getting restless. They were about to use it to..." He stopped.

"Use it to what?" asked Mariah. Kurt shrugged. 

"I mean...you know boys and their porn." He tried to grin, but gave up at the look on Mariah's face. "Oh shut up, you know why."

"No, explain it to me."

"Ughhhh, look, I can't tell you. All I can tell you is that I took charge of it. I told them I'd keep it safe. It's in my hands now, you have nothing to worry about."

"I was attacked over break, Kurt, my friends were attacked, my father is MISSING-- I'd say I have everything to worry about!" snapped Mariah. "Now what  _ is _ this!?" 

"When I say I can't tell you why, I am not being evasive. I am under a lot of stress right now, Mariah, stress I can't even begin to impress upon you. I am being watched by  _ everyone _ . We all are. I promised you I would do everything I could to help your father, and I will, but I am stretching myself thin as it is protecting you."

They stood apart in silence. More shouting echoed down the hall and Kurt glanced back over his shoulder at the door. 

"Look, there's not a lot I can do, Mariah. But if it helps, keep that book," he said. "Take it back, I'll tell them it got stolen." Kurt's name was called and he walked toward the door. "You'll probably want to get out of here. Looks like it's gonna get rough." He paused. "I'd like it if you stayed, but I'd understand if you didn't."

"I'll see you later," said Mariah slowly. Kurt left the room. She sighed and crossed her arms over the book.

Sirius suddenly appeared out of nowhere and she rolled her eyes.

"Jesus, Sirius, why aren't you gone yet?"

"Whatever, hang onto the book. I'm going to get you out of here past all the ruckus," he said, draping the invisibility cloak over her and tugging her out the door into the hall.


	12. Musical Chairs, Part III

Meanwhile, Geoff was standing in the hallway just outside the Slytherin common room and had slowly begun to make his way back upstairs toward Gryffindor tower, formulating the story he would tell if he were intercepted by Filch. He had just made it up to the entrance hall when he heard footsteps approaching. Preparing himself for Filch, he was pleasantly surprised -- even relieved -- when he saw Emilie descending the marble staircase, toting a heavy bag full of textbooks, parchment, and quills.

"Geoff?" She faltered for a moment at the foot of the staircase before crossing the room to close the distance between them, taking one of his hands in hers and rising on her toes to kiss him swiftly on the cheek. "What are you doing down here? I thought there was a big wizard chess tournament in Gryffindor Tower tonight?"

"I wanted to surprise you," he said. "Thought we could take a walk, or--"

"Actually, there's something..." She trailed off, biting her lower lip and adjusting her grip on the bag slung over her shoulder. "There's something I wanted to talk to you about," she said. "But not here. Come on." She squeezed his hand a little more tightly and led him back the way he had come, steadily descending deeper into the dungeons and back toward the wall panel that concealed the Slytherin common room.

A pit fell in Geoff's stomach as the wall panel slid open and the sounds of angry shouting drifted out into the dungeon corridor.

"What in Merlin's name...?"

Geoff felt his pace inadvertently slow as Emilie continued onward, tugging at his hand as she pulled him forward down the short hallway to the common room. Emerging into the common room proper, Geoff did his best to avoid eye contact with James and Remus, instead focusing on a nearby lampshade that was a vibrant shade of mint green as Emilie let her bag fall to the floor. James and Remus were disarmed and being held at wandpoint by Avery and Mulciber on one of the elegant chaises strewn about the common room while Snape stooped in front of them, his yellow teeth bared as his own wand came dangerously close to poking James in the eye. Kurt stood to one side, arms folded across his chest, a pair of wands that presumably belonged to James and Remus clutched in one of his fists.

"I am going to ask you," Snape hissed, "one more time -- where is Black?"

"Sev?" Emilie placed a hand on the Slytherin boy's shoulder, and he whirled around sharply, nearly knocking a precariously stacked pile of books from a nearby table. "Sev, what's -- what's going on?"

" _ These _ two were snooping around in here," Snape answered, gesturing back at the Gryffindors on the couch. "And  _ that _ one--" he thrust his wand at Geoff, who was busying himself with examining the mint lampshade's chartreuse tassels "--was in here, claiming he was looking for you. They're all up to something. Black is lurking around here somewhere, I'm sure of it. Rosier's working on hunting him down." Snape turned back to James and Remus, this time turning his wand to the werewolf. " _ Where is Black _ ?"

"Oy! Snape! Think I've found something!"

Snape's curtain of greasy hair whipped around to see Rosier triumphantly waving a flea collar in the air from behind a couch. 

"What d'you think? Why would that mangy blood-traitor carry one of--"

Seemingly from thin air, Sirius launched himself at Rosier with a roar, wand forgotten, wrestling the Slytherin boy to the ground in an attempt to wrench the flea collar from his hand, blindly throwing punches left and right. Avery and Mulciber abandoned their positions beside James and Remus to help pull Sirius off their fellow Slytherin.

Geoffrey was just admiring the emerald rhinestones attached the lampshade when Emilie grabbed his arm roughly, yanking him around to face her. "What's going on?" she demanded. "Why are they all here? Tell me you aren't involved."

He opened his mouth to answer, but another shout rang out across the common room, and the two of them looked to see Snape on the floor, clutching at a bloody nose, James and Remus springing from the chaise and leaping toward Kurt to reclaim their wands. Rosier threw Sirius off of him, springing to his feet and whipping out his own wand, firing spell after spell in any and every direction, transfiguring lamps and shattering vases, sending books and chess boards and rolls of parchment flying through the air. A pot of ink hit Geoff in the side of the face, and an instant later his wand was out, flinging jinxes toward the Slytherins, Emilie following close behind him into the fray.

The commotion drew the attention of other Slytherins, and more and more faces appeared in the corridors leading to the dormitories as younger students got out of bed to investigate the source of the ruckus. The pandemonium in the common room was enough to send most of the first and second-years ducking back into their rooms for cover, while some of the bolder students, eager to prove themselves to their older classmates, took a few cautious steps into the common room, shooting a handful of half-hearted jinxes, most of which hit their fellow Slytherins rather than the Gryffindor intruders. As a third-year girl went down with a jelly-legs jinx, her friend beside her crept around the perimeter of the room and slipped out of the common room and into the corridor.

Sirius had reclaimed his flea collar from Rosier and was waving it triumphantly above his head, laughing maniacally as he pinned Rosier to the floor with one knee. James was bellowing for the Marauders to regroup and get out while they could, attempting to yank his wand arm out of Mulciber's grip while Avery advanced toward Geoff, wand raised.

Geoff raised his own wand, deflecting jinx after jinx, but Avery's spells were coming faster and stronger. A flash of red light, and Geoff found himself disarmed, his wand flying neatly into Avery's hand. "Emilie--"

An instant later, Avery was on Geoff, bowling him to the ground, hands at his throat. "Yeah,  _ Em _ ," Avery said, "why don't you come save dear Geoffrey?"

Emilie hesitated for only a fraction of a second, but the uncertainty was plain on her face. An instant later, Sirius had barreled sidelong into Avery, knocking him off Geoff and sending the Gryffindor's wand skittering across the floor. Geoff rolled onto his side, coughing as he struggled to regain his breath, Emilie diving for his wand, which had rolled under a nearby sofa. Groping under the furniture, the fingers of her left hand closed around the wand. She pulled it out from under the couch and extended her arm to hand it to its owner. As Geoff took it, his eyes slid from the wand in her hand to the thin black lines gracing her forearm, and he felt his heart leap up into his throat.

"Emilie, what is that?"

"Geoff, I--"

"STOP! SLUGHORN IS COMING!"

Everyone looked around to see where the shout had come from. Then everyone looked at each other.

"You're dead!" hissed Avery. He snarled in anger and pain as Sirius hauled him to his feet and pressed the tip of his wand into his spine. 

"Not a chance. McGonagall said any more fights and we're all out of here. If we go, so do you!" Sirius looked around. "What are you waiting for? Act natural!"

James hauled Snape to his feet and held him at wandtip like Sirius while Remus set about counterjinxing the third year girl whose legs were still jelly. Rosier leapt to his feet, brandishing his wand.

"I don't care what McGonagall says--!"

" _ Rosier! _ Don't, he's right," said Kurt sharply, getting to his feet as he pinched a heavily bleeding nose. Rosier whirled around.

"But--"

"Everybody act like nothing's happening, or it's all of us out of here. And we  _ don't want that, do we? _ " Kurt raised an eyebrow at Rosier, who looked about to shit himself with rage. 

"But...Kurt..." He failed against the look Kurt was fixing him with and sat down in the nearest viridian armchair furiously, his nails digging into the fabric. Mulciber took the chair next to him, no less angry. Kurt lowered himself onto the pea-green couch, still pinching his streaming nose. He grabbed a nearby book and held it up to his face to hide the injury, glancing at Sirius, who still held Avery at wandpoint.

"Might want to ease up a bit there, Black."

"Shut the fuck up, Lovell."

Emilie helped Geoff to his feet, avoiding his eyes. Geoff opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment they heard the wall open at the entrance, and a very exhausted Professor Slughorn entered the room wearing a jade dressing gown that strongly resembled the curtains in his office and a very exasperated expression.

"Come, come, now, it's almost midnight, ladies and gentlemen, what's all the commotion about? I've got alarms going off for almost the entire Slytherin dormitory! Shouldn't you all be in bed? And what are you doing here, you're not in my house, are you, boys?"He looked at Geoff and the Marauders as though he wasn't quite sure if he was dreaming their presence. 

"We...have significant others," said Remus, looking at Geoff. He held the Jelly-legged girl a bit closer. Slughorn looked from Remus to Geoff, and then to James and Sirius. James hid his wand behind his back and put an arm around Snape's stiff, cold shoulders while Sirius tugged Avery a bit closer to him by the waist, his wand still at his back. Slughorn blinked.

"Oh. I...well I suppose that...I mean, I realize that times have changed, and there's all this 'free love' balderdash, but...well...it would probably be best if all of you went on back to your common rooms, tonight. It's a school night. Yes, I'll let Mr. Filch know you have my permission, just...keep it down next time, won't you?"

He turned, still shaking his head and muttering to himself as he left the common room. A moment passed in his absence, and then Sirius and James violently jerked away from their quickly-chosen partners and walked towards the exit looking visibly shaken and ashamed of themselves. They turned at the door. 

"This never happened," said James.

"Agreed," choked Avery, looking visibly sick.

Remus nodded to the 3rd year, a bit pink in the face, and followed the others out. Emilie made a move to speak to Geoff, but he turned and followed everyone else to head back to Gryffindor Tower. 

* * *

Mariah made it back to the dormitory without seeing any sign of Filch. She took off the invisibility cloak, briefly wondering where Sirius had gotten it before turning her attentions to the well-worn book in her hands. She was still going over the previous events of the night. It was supposed to be Rosier. Rosier was going to have the book, not Kurt. He'd said he took it to keep everyone else from causing destruction, but how could he say that with eight people lying in the Hospital Wing? Was he lying to her? What if he did was really...

He was so different lately, thought Mariah. What had happened to him over Christmas? She thought back to before, when he had been so romantic. Now he was distant, duplicitous, and she could never seem to hold his eyes. She frowned. What had his father said to him? He had been so rebellious against his family and now he seemed to be perfectly poised to join them. What could possibly have happened to change his mind and make him choose a side? Did he even want to be in a relationship with her anymore, or was he just trying to maintain his relationship with her for...recreation?

Sighing, Mariah opened  _ Hellion Hexes _ , and started flipping through to the centerfold. 

But something was different.

The girls on each page were not lewdly posing and showing off their assets as they had been the last time she'd seen it. She flipped past Valentina, who was cowering by the page number, and Tabitha, fifteen pages before her own glittering name was flashing across the top. All of them were misplaced, it seemed, crowded together at either cover. And all of them were terrified. 

Mariah flipped the pages quicker, trying to find the foldout. And then she did.

The page not only contained as much flesh as any other, it was also nearly soaked in blood. The page was full of bodies- lifeless, gruesome bodies, some rent apart and some with faces frozen in sickening screams, all nearly stacked upon each other, all unmoving. Then, as she watched, the picture began to change. The bodies transformed into people she knew. She saw Geoff, Lily, and herself, along with a hundred other faces. Some she recognized from the  _ Daily Prophet _ , some she had seen at other wizarding events, some were other students at Hogwarts, and some had been in school only just in the past few years. A large, bloodspattered banner bled slowly into the page, covering a few of the bodies and spreading its way down towards where she had the foldout spread between her fingers. Two giant, haunting words. 

_ Memento Mori _ . 

Remember, you must die. 


	13. Plan of Action, Man of Action

As promised, no word of the mishap in the Slytherin common room had permeated the thick stone wall that closed it off from the rest of the castle. None of the Slytherins wanted to admit that they'd been duped, while none of the Gryffindors wanted to admit that they had failed, and Avery had quickly asked out the 3rd year girl caught in the crossfire in order to compensate for any doubts cast upon his character in the event. 

Mariah had gone straight to Dumbledore the morning after her discovery and handed over  _ Hellion Hexes _ . The headmaster had thanked her, taken a few days to consider, and called an official meeting of the Order the following week in his office. With the exception of the students still recovering in the Hospital Wing, the rest of the new initiates of the Order were in full attendance. Geoff and Mariah stood among the other recruits: the Boneses, Marlene McKinnon, and Benjy Fenwick. The Marauders were there as well, standing cross-armed in the back. 

"It has been brought to my attention," started Dumbledore, "that this book has been being used to identify Muggle-borns and other possible targets of Voldemort's forces within Hogwarts. This book has changed hands many times, it seems, and most recently has been altered to threaten its readers rather than to inform."

_ Hellion Hexes _ lay open on his desk, centerfold extended, still flashing its morbid images, upside down to the audience in the room, but fully visible to the concerned headmaster. 

"After some careful consideration, and in light of the recent attacks on several students within Hogwarts, I think it's time we called this organization to order officially," he said, his voice sharper than before. A few people looked up from the book on the desk. Dumbledore seemed full of an energy they had not seen before. "This means no more independent, disorganized missions within the castle without my permission." He threw a knowing glance at the Marauders, who shifted guiltily.

"Voldemort's forces are on the move, and I believe at this stage the best weapon we can hope for is information. That's why I've decided to organize reconnaissance teams for the time being. Voldemort so far has been working in absolute secrecy, and as you all know, supporters are not quick to identify themselves. However, there are few names we can be rightly suspicious of, and it is these names we will be watching.

"I've organized you all into pairs," Dumbledore unrolled a small roll of parchment. "Marlene McKinnon and Anthony Bones. You will be watching the Delacroix household. Ambrosia Bones and Benjamin Fenwick, you will be watching the Avery household. Geoffrey Mansfield and Sirius Black, you will be watching the Lestrange household. Mariah Jaeger and James Potter, you will be watching the Rosier household. Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew, you will be watching the Lovell household. None of you will consult with each other on your findings outside of this room, and none of you will initiate contact with anyone you are tracking. Do not attempt to engage with anyone you may come into contact with on these reconnaissance missions. I urge all of you to err on the side of caution; if you find yourselves in danger, you are to  _ get out immediately _ , is that clear?"

Everyone in the room muttered in the affirmative. Mariah glanced at Remus, who was looking at her. It had not escaped her that Dumbledore had kept her off of Kurt's case, not to mention away from Remus and Sirius both in the pairing. She did not know how to feel about that. Geoff had been placed with Sirius, after all. That was almost inviting an argument.

"I will be in touch about your missions individually in the near future. Until then, you are dismissed," said Dumbledore. Everyone headed toward the door, but Dumbledore added, "Mr. Mansfield and Miss Jaeger, a moment, if you please? And Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, if you could wait just outside?" 

Geoff and Mariah hung back as the others filed out. Mariah noticed Sirius's eyes on her as he passed, but she averted her gaze. Dumbledore approached them as soon as the last of the students had left. 

"It has been brought to my attention that the two of you are rather close with certain students whose families are under scrutiny by the Order. Is this the case?" 

"Yes," said Mariah slowly. Geoff shifted his weight and folded his arms across his chest, but remained silent. Dumbledore did not press him.

"Firstly, I would simply ask that the two of you report anything suspicious you find to me. As members of the Order, especially those who have already lost family to Voldemort's terror, I would expect nothing less from you. We need to know all we can, for the protection of our loved ones. I would discourage anyone from expecting any mercy from the Death Eaters, but if you are expecting some kind of exception for yourself, I assure you, they will show you none."

Mariah and Geoff nodded, Mariah's eyes lingering on the centerfold of the still-open  _ Hellion Hexes _ on Dumbledore's desk, the numerous corpses clearly visible from this angle, along with the grim reminder -  _ memento mori. _ Her eyes flicked back up to Dumbledore as he cleared his throat slightly, drawing a short roll of parchment from his desk and flattening it to examine it through his half-moon spectacles.

"My second reason for asking the two of you to wait behind," he went on, "is that I have received certain intelligence that your assignments -- the Rosiers and Lestranges -- may be planning to act more quickly than we had initially anticipated. As such, I believe it would be best for your first reconnaissance mission to take place as soon as possible -- tonight." He gave them a brief run-down of their missions, instructions, and what exactly they were looking for, and after stressing his warnings of utmost caution once more, sent them on their way.

Mariah felt a growing knot in her stomach as she followed Geoff out of Dumbledore's office. Sirius and James were waiting at the bottom of the staircase just in front of the gargoyle. James's eyebrows were raised expectantly, but Sirius's expression was flat.

"What is it?" Mariah asked.

"Did you tell him where the book came from?" asked Sirius. Mariah sighed.

"Sirius... I don't know what to think right now--"

"Well, Mariah, this is the time to make your mind up. We're in the Order now. Your little schoolgirl crush doesn't matter if your boyfriend is murdering scores of people, possibly  _ including _ your dad, if I have to remind you."

"I... I know..." she said. She tried to find more words, but it was hard to find them in the tension filling her brain. Sirius uncrossed his arms, pointing one finger at her.

"Look, either you tell Dumbledore where that book came from, or I will," he said. Still scowling, he turned to Geoff. "What did Dumbledore want?"

"First mission assignment," Geoff answered. "Tonight."

The news seemed to brighten Sirius's mood considerably, and the boys were walking down the hallway a moment later, Sirius listening enthusiastically as Geoff outlined the details in low tones.

James watched them go for a moment before turning back to Mariah. "Guessing that means there's a mission for us as well?"

Mariah nodded, but didn't elaborate, still hurt by Sirius.

"Listen -- there's a passageway on the fourth floor behind that big mirror. You know, the ugly one with the silver frame? Wait for me there. I'm going to go get the cloak from Gryffindor Tower."

* * *

"You lost the book, Lovell. The Dark Lord won't like that one bit will he? Think he'll take it out on you personally, or get one of his old boys to issue the punishment?" 

"Shut the fuck up, Rosier. The Dark Lord will do as he pleases and it's not up to us to speculate, you should know that by now," replied Kurt, rolling his eyes. "Besides, I charmed the book the last time we got it back after...who was it? Oh yes, after  _ Avery _ lost it. And who got it back? Oh right,  _ I _ did. What have you done lately to help the cause, Rosier?" 

"That's not fair, Kurt," huffed Rosier. "I haven't been given any assignments to screw up."

"That's ri-ight," said Kurt in a singsong voice, smirking. "So I wouldn't be so smug if I were you, Rosier. It's only too obvious what the Dark Lord thinks of you." 

Rosier screwed up his face in anger, but had nothing more to say. Kurt sat back on his bed, surveying the rest of the Slytherins before him. They had gathered in the seventh year dormitory- Rosier, Mulciber, Avery, Snape, Emilie, and himself. 

"Now," said Kurt," because the Gryffindors stole the book, and because it was full of murderous imagery, there's no doubt they've turned it in to Dumbledore himself. While I figure out a new method of communicating with the outside, I suggest a watch on Dumbledore's movements. This will be difficult as not one of you is particularly  _ subtle _ ." His eyes rested on Rosier with the last word, but he moved on. "Wouldn't hurt to keep an eye on Potter, Black, and his boys either."

"What about those mudblood girls, huh?" asked Mulciber.

"Evans will be with Potter, that's a given," said Kurt. "And you leave Mariah to me." 

"How do you know she won't break up with you now that she knows you had the book?" asked Snape softly. 

"Because I am the only one who can get her father back to her, and I'm sure that's much more important than a book that never did any harm...by itself," said Kurt. "In any case, we all need to lay low. No more harassing the Gryffindors. We don't need Dumbledore getting anymore suspicious than he already is. Keep one eye on Potter and his crew and one eye on Dumbledore, that is your assignment. Is that clear?" 

Rosier grunted, leaving the room in a huff. Mulciber and Avery followed. Kurt looked at Emilie, who hadn't moved.

"Don't blow it with Mansfield."

"I may have already blown it with Mansfield," said Emilie dryly.

"Then make yourself useful elsewhere," said Kurt, raising an eyebrow. "Dumbledore's office would be a good start, if you've got nothing better to do."

He watched as she left the room.

"That was easy," said Snape.

"I don't think I've ever heard her go quietly," said Kurt. 

"It's because Mansfield saw her mark," said Snape. Kurt sighed, lying back on his pillow and putting his hands over his eyes. 

"Always a technicality," he groaned. "Think we've lost that insider view?"

"Not unless he only thinks he saw the mark," said Snape. "And who knows what, or more likely if, Mansfield  _ thinks _ ."

"Right." Kurt was thinking. "I suppose we're running out of options now that everything's coming to a close?" 

"Getting sentimental, are we?" 

"Hardly," grinned Kurt. "I'm eager to start the real fight."

"Where are you off to?" asked Snape as Kurt headed for the passage out of the common room.

"Thought I'd get a jump start on my insurance policy," said Kurt as the wall closed behind him.


	14. Reconnaissance

Emilie didn't fancy taking orders from Kurt, but there was nothing else for it. She had done little to ingratiate herself with Rosier and his cronies since the incident in the common room, spending the first part of the week trailing after Geoff, trying to coerce him into speaking to her, but to no avail; the Gryffindor had remained firmly oblivious to any and all of her attempts to communicate. After the fifth full day of total rejection, she had effected a new strategy, turning an equally cold shoulder to him -- or would have, had he made any attempt to initiate contact, which he didn't.

Rounding the corner toward Dumbledore's office, Emilie jumped back behind the wall at the sight of Sirius, James, Mariah, and Geoff standing in the corridor, speaking in hushed tones. She had not expected to really gain anything from lurking outside the headmaster's office, and instead had found a potential goldmine. Before she could begin to question what their powwow could be about, Sirius and Geoff took off down one corridor, James and Mariah stalling for a few more moments before heading off another direction. After a quick mental calculation, the Slytherin decided Mariah and James were the safer bet, and set off after her, careful to stay just out of sight.

The Gryffindors' pace was brisk as they traveled through the castle, and Emilie nearly lost them down several hidden passageways, but Mariah and James finally stopped at a dead-end fourth floor corridor in front of an oversized mirror, the frame of which had been carved to resemble what Emilie supposed was meant to be something akin to a burly troll with a severe underbite. Emilie watched for what seemed like an eternity as the pair ahead of her stared at the mirror and then began examining the frame, pulling out their wands and tapping it in a few places, then beginning to tap on the stone wall around the mirror. Mariah replaced the wand within her robes and returned to the mirror and grabbed James's sleeve, examining the frame closely again before reaching out and moving some part of it that Emilie couldn't see from her hiding place. The effect of whatever it was Mariah had done was immediate and evident -- the surface of the mirror shimmered and became translucent long enough for James and Mariah to step through, before representing itself as a mirror once more.

Emilie allowed them a thirty second head-start down the hidden passage before making her own way toward the mirror. She examined the spot that Mariah had touched and saw a plaque (which informed her that the mirror was, indeed, fashioned after a troll named Bluebell), above which was a small round lever. She flipped it, the mirror shimmered, and she stepped through. The mirror sealed behind her, and the passage was engulfed in darkness.

Emilie drew her wand but didn't dare light it, inching forward slowly down the passageway in pursuit of the pair of Gryffindors. Fortunately, the floor of the passageway was smooth, and before long, Emilie saw the light of their wands casting vague shadows on the walls of the passageway. The Slytherin girl continued forward, careful to keep her footfalls light on the stone floor. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest; the Gryffindors were clearly up to something -- likely on Dumbledore's orders, if their meeting place outside his office was anything to go by -- and they had a secret passageway to get them to wherever it was they were going. The passage widened into a large, cavernous room; torches along the walls sprang to life as she entered, and for a moment Emilie stopped dead in her tracks, wand poised at the ready, waiting to see if either of them would backtrack. But the Gryffindors did not reappear, and Emilie continued onward, pulse pounding loudly in her ears as she anticipated an attack, but none came.

The torches somewhere behind her extinguished themselves, and she once again found herself in total darkness; the wand light that had danced ahead of her previously was nowhere to be seen. For an instant, she thought she'd lost the Gryffindors, and she quickened her pace slightly, but when she rounded the next corner in the tunnel, a jet of red light sailed over her head and crashed into the tunnel wall. Within seconds, Emilie had sent a jet of light shooting from the tip of her own wand in retaliation. The Gryffindors each leapt to one side, and the Slytherin girl's curse hit the tunnel wall between them.

James raised his wand to fire another spell at Emilie, but with an earsplitting  _ crack _ , the tunnel wall split in two, and the ceiling began to collapse.

* * *

The two teenagers stood on the street corner, cloaks pulled tightly around them as the chilly January wind tugged at the hems of their robes. Their breath rose in a misty vapor before them, mingling with the thin trails of smoke rising from the ends of their lit cigarettes.

"This is shit," Sirius said, dropping the butt of his most recent cigarette onto the pavement and grinding it out with his heel. "I thought Dumbledore had a mission for us, not just standing around."

"Someone's got to do it," Geoff answered, taking a drag on his own cigarette as he glanced down the street at their target. The Lestranges' house was dark except for a light on the second floor, and since they'd been standing on the street corner, working their way through a pack of Muggle smokes (to really fit the bill for a good stake-out, according to Sirius), no one had come or gone from the house, and barely half a dozen people had passed by down the street.

"So get a bloody third-year to do it." Sirius thrust out his hand for another smoke. Geoff obliged. "We're basically done with school. Let us do some  _ real _ work. I mean, we're practically Aurors, y'know? And what really hacks me off," he added, lighting his fresh cigarette with the tip of his wand, "is that the fucking Lestranges are out there doing fuck only knows what, while we're stuck with Dumbledore sending us doing shit like this when we could be out there stopping them."

"We can't stop them if we don't know what they're doing," he said. "That's why Dumbledore sent us here."

"I still say it's bullshit," Sirius grumbled, watching a passing witch as she stopped to pick a flower from the bushes near the Lestranges' front gate, but turned his gaze elsewhere as she continued walking.

" _ I _ still say Dumbledore knows what he's doing. Besides," Geoff added, pausing to knock the ash from the end of his cigarette before taking another drag on it, "surveillance out here is better than another debacle like the Slytherin common room."

Sirius groaned loudly. "I thought we'd all agreed not to talk about that."

"I think we  _ should _ be talking about it! I mean we finally have undeniable proof that Em--" Geoff broke off abruptly as another pedestrian appeared at the street corner, consulting a roll of parchment as he passed by the row of houses, apparently looking for an address. The man passed by the Lestranges' without pausing longer than it took to read the number on the letterbox. " _ I saw her Dark Mark, Sirius _ ," Geoff hissed, smoke streaming out from between his lips. "I'd think you of all people would want to talk about--"

"I practically had a threesome with Mariah and Lovell in the Slytherin dorms," Sirius cut in. "Not exactly something I want to re-live."

"Come  _ on _ , I know you're dying to say 'I told you so,' so go ahead and say it. You were right all along, Emilie's a Death Eater, and..." Geoff trailed off as Sirius raised a hand to silence him. The dark-haired Gryffindor was suddenly rigid, staring at the latest figure that had appeared on the corner of the street. "What? He's not one of the Lestranges. Probably just a neighbor."

"Shut up, Mansfield. Act casual." Silence passed between them as they watched the tall, dark-haired man slowly make his way down the row of houses. Geoff hesitantly raised his cigarette to his lips and shot a sideways glance at Sirius, who was acting anything but casual, still rigidly staring at the man. The man didn't seem interested in two teenagers smoking on the corner, though, his slow strides becoming more purposeful as he neared his destination, finally stopping at the Lestranges' gate, unlatching it with a wave of his hand, and making his way toward the door.

The door shut behind the man, and the two teenagers continued to stand, staring at the doorway as though waiting for him to re-emerge.

"Bloody hell," Sirius breathed after several moments. "I've sat through enough of Mum's dinner parties to recognize that guy anywhere. It's Lovell."

Geoff snorted. "I've sat through enough classes to know you're full of shit. That wasn't Kurt."

" _ Aldrik _ Lovell. Lovell,  _ Senior _ \-- Kurt's dad," Sirius said, exasperated. He glanced sideways at Geoff and saw the ginger's eyebrows raised. "I'd say reconnaissance just got a lot more interesting."

Before Geoff could open his mouth to protest, Sirius was half-dragging him down the street toward the Lestrange home.

* * *

Mariah coughed as the dust settled and the last few pebbles toppled to the floor. She felt around for her wand, but couldn't find it in the dark. She could hear shuffling about 15 feet back the way they'd come, but she couldn't hear anyone nearer.

"James! James where are you!"

"I'm ok!" she heard a muffled voice answer from the other side of the rock wall that had formed beside her. "Just lost my wand-- ah there it is.  _ Lumos _ !"

"I can't find my wand!" Mariah shouted. 

"Fuck..." groaned the assailant from somewhere nearby.

"Emilie?" asked Mariah

"Yeah. No need to shout."

"Why were you following us?"

A brief pause. "I'd never seen this passage before, and wanted to see where it went?" answered Emilie unconvincingly.

"Who are you talking to?" shouted James from behind the wall.

"It's Emilie Delacroix, she followed us!" Mariah shouted back. She heard James cursing but couldn't make out his exact words. One sounded an awful lot like "punt," though.

"Is she armed?" he called finally.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Emilie grumbled somewhere in the darkness.

"Unarmed!" Mariah called through the rock.

"Look, okay, Mariah, are you okay waiting here until I get back? We've only got a few hours..."

"Yeah, go on ahead. I'll see if I can move some of this rock and find my wand," said Mariah.

"Alright. Don't worry, I'll get you both out when I get back," said James. 

"Good luck!" shouted Mariah, but James didn't answer. He'd already gone.

"Would you quit with the shouting?" Emilie asked. Her voice had moved to what Mariah could only assume was the other end of the cave-in, presumably in search of her wand. "My head is killing me. Where were you two going anyway?"

"None of your business," said Mariah, sighing.

"Worth a shot," she heard Emilie sigh as well.

They sat in the dark for a minute or so, the silence between them unbroken. As Mariah felt her way along the rocks blocking the way they'd come in search of loose stones, she noticed with some gratitude that the rock walls were fairly dry and in no way slimy.

"I can't find my wand," said Emilie. "We need some light if we're going to get out of here."

Mariah felt the Slytherin girl's hands brush over her feet as she moved closer to try to shove the rocks aside. "This wall is pretty solid, I don't know if we can dig ourselves out," she said doubtfully.

"Check the other side," Emilie said. Mariah turned and took a step but Emilie cried out, "Ahhh my hand!"

"Oh, sorry," said Mariah, stepping off and continuing to feel her way toward the other wall. Her foot connected with a stray pebble, and it skittered away across the floor, clacking loudly against the stone.

"Would you be careful? We don't want to snap one of our wands on accident trying to dig ourselves out." 

Mariah stopped walking, shuffling her feet forward instead in big arcs, feeling for her wand. "This wall's solid, too," she said once she'd reached the other side.

"Great," sighed Emilie. Judging from the slither of fabric, the Slytherin girl had let herself slide to the ground, leaning against the rock wall. Mariah did likewise on her end of the chamber, feeling the floor around her absent-mindedly for her wand. The two girls sat in silence for several long minutes, hearing nothing but the distant echoes of echoes from either end of the tunnel.

"How much you want to bet our wands are buried under two tons of rock?" asked Emilie at length.

"Don't worry, people don't break their wands every day. I'm sure we'll find them once James gets back and we get some light in here," said Mariah. She was doubtful, but Emilie sounded glum.

"Your optimism never ceases to amaze me," Emilie said. "Your boyfriend's fighting for the other side? No problem. Your father's been kidnapped? Classes per usual. Wand crushed in a dark tunnel? Cake."

"Do you know where my father is, Emilie?" asked Mariah quietly. 

The Slytherin's answer was immediate and short. "No."

"But you have the Mark."

Emilie gave a derisive snort in the darkness. "You think the Dark Lord lets us in on every single tiny detail of his plan? Please. Have you ever heard of pawns? And anyway, it's not like Dumbledore lets you in on all the people  _ he's _ keeping captive. Take your situation and flip it around, and we're in the same boat, you and me. Pawns."

"Dumbledore hasn't got anyone captive," said Mariah, frowning.

Emilie laughed humorlessly. "My point exactly." 

Mariah paused. "Emilie, can I ask you something?"

"Why not? Not like either of us is going anywhere any time soon," said Emilie from the dark.

"Is Kurt really a Death Eater?" 

"He has a Mark," said Emilie. 

"Is that a yes?" 

"That's an answer."

"Emilie, please. You know you could probably get back on Geoff's good side if you'd let us in on what the Slyth--I mean, the Death Eaters are planning. You're not a bad person, you don't have to side with them," said Mariah.

Emilie sighed. "I wouldn't expect a mudbl--" She broke off abruptly. "It's not that simple," she amended. "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

"Oh please like I'm going to bare my soul to Jiggery Jaeger."

"Come on, Emilie, what else are we going to talk about until James gets back, huh?" 

"We don't have to talk at all."

"Hey, you said earlier that neither of us is going anywhere any time soon."

There was a long silence from the other end of the chamber. It was long enough that Mariah began to wonder if Emilie was serious about neither of them speaking until James returned.

"Mariah," the Slytherin said at last, "I know we aren't really friends, but can I tell you something? It's... kind of a secret. I haven't told anyone."

Mariah snorted from her end of the chamber. "What, did Geoff knock you up before you two ended things?"

A very pregnant pause fell between them. Mariah waited for Emilie to respond, but the Slytherin girl remained silent. In the darkness, Mariah's eyes widened.

"Oh my God."


	15. Breaking and Entering

"What if there's an alarm? What if Lestrange has some sort of Dumbledore-supporter-detector spell? What if--"

"Lestrange isn't the type to set up a defense mechanism, he's the type to murder house elves for spilling tea. Or boredom. I always mix up the Lestranges and the Notts that way," Sirius muttered, moving quickly along a side hallway from the grand entrance. The Lestrange mansion was oddly decorated. None of the contents of the house seemed to match the rooms they were in, let alone each other. The only thing any of the mismatched furniture or the odds and ends adorning them had in common was that they all looked very expensive, and they all looked like they didn't belong where they were.

"Did Lestrange steal all of this?" asked Geoff, but Sirius shushed him.

_ Lovell _ , he mouthed, pointing to a door at the end of the hall. The two of them crept closer, leaning behind a glass case full of a few statues of dismembered body parts. 

"...don't know of any such thing." Aldrik Lovell was saying.

"As a buyer and seller of rare dark magical objects, surely you must have heard of it," said a deep, hoarse voice that must have belonged to Lestrange Sr. 

"Well I'm sorry to disappoint you, Brother," said Lovell. They heard the scraping of a chair as though he had stood and tensed should he come through the door, but Lestrange spoke then.

"The Dark Lord is the one who will be disappointed." Geoff and Sirius heard the chair scrape back into place.

"The Dark Lord," Lovell repeated. "I did hear a rumor, only once, through distant connections. I'll start there."

"I will relay the message," said Lestrange. "In the meantime, I've recently acquired a number of dark magical objects you may be interested in taking off my hands."

Geoff felt Sirius grab his arm and pull him down the hallway as both chairs within the room screeched against the floorboards. The two of them fled through an open door at the other end of the hall, closing the door behind them quietly. 

"I knew it, I  _ knew _ it! Lovell's all over the Dark Lord's dick!" Sirius exclaimed in a very strained hiss.

"But we knew that, didn't we? Where are we, anyway?" 

"Don't spoil my moment. Lestrange's study. Quick, see if you can find anything talking about what they're looking for."

"But we didn't hear what it was, we just heard it was a dark magical object rumored to exist. That's almost nothing to go on, that could be anything," said Geoff.

"Then we start from anything and narrow our way down, quick, you check his writing desk and I'll look through these cabinets."

Sighing, Geoff walked to the writing desk and began shuffling through the papers strewn about its surface. He moved on to the drawers when that appeared to be fruitless, and started glancing over the documents within. 

"Eurgh, look at this, Mansfield."

"What?"

Geoff glanced up from the papers he was rifling through to see Sirius standing in front of a curio cabinet, delicately holding something blackened and shriveled at arm's length. The lanky ginger lowered his stack of papers and took a step forward, eying the object closely. "Is that a hand? That is  _ rank _ ."

"Here, check it out."

Sirius turned over the hand to Geoff and resumed rummaging through the cabinet. The hand was withered and dry, and a heavy scent of excrement hung about it. Clutched in the shriveled fingers was a crudely-made candle with a handful of wax rivulets running down its length. He turned the hand over, looking at it carefully, his eyes catching sight of a raised crescent-shaped scar just above the thumb. He yelped in alarm and dropped it to the floor.

"Don't  _ break _ it!" Sirius snapped turning away from the cabinet and scooping the hand up, examining it for damage. "We can't let them know we've been in here. What's the matter with you?" he added, catching sight of Geoff's colorless face.

"Sorry, it's just... I think I know whose hand that is."

* * *

"So that's why you've been hounding Geoff all week?"

"Yeah." Emilie's voice was glum. "I was going to tell him last weekend, but then... well, you know how that night ended up. Honestly, I'm a little surprised Slughorn didn't just chuck all of us out right then and there."

Mariah laughed humorlessly, and the two of them lapsed into silence again. 

They waited in the dark, occasionally reaching out to half-heartedly search for their wands. It seemed like ages had passed since James had disappeared with his promise to return with help, and there had been no sign of anyone coming to the rescue. The search for their missing wands had continued half-heartedly as Emilie had explained her situation to Mariah, but finally they had given up and sat down side by side, waiting for James to come back. 

"Were you going to tell him about...?" Mariah let her question trail off as she gently touched the Slytherin girl's forearm. She felt Emilie draw away slightly.

"I was going to tell him everything," Emilie said. "Now he won't even look at me. I should have told him ages ago about the Mark."

"Yeah, you should've."

A beat passed between them. The words had come out of Mariah's mouth more sharply than she'd intended.

"When Kurt told me about his, I was pissed," she said. "He told me he got it at your house, so I thought... I assumed you had one, too. We all did, except Geoff. He believed you when you told him Rosier attacked you because you refused to get a Mark, and he stuck up for you even when Sirius was being horrible, even though you lied to him. He really liked you, you know."

"I know," Emilie said miserably.

"After the thing in the dungeons, he spent two whole days trying to convince himself you didn't have a Mark."

"Well, joke's on him." Emilie leaned her head back against the rock wall behind them and stared upward into the inky blackness where the ceiling should have been. "I just wish he'd talk to me. Even if he never wants to see me again, he should know about -- about the baby. He's always with Sirius now, though, and they just start talking louder to each other any time they see me. If I could just get him alone for five minutes..." She trailed off.

"You didn't hear this from me," Mariah said slowly, "but Geoff's been going down to the Quidditch pitch every night right after dinner. He goes alone -- you could try to talk to him then."

"Thanks, Mariah. I'll give it a shot."

"Hello? Anybody home? Watch out!"

The two girls scrambled to their feet and stepped away from the rock as a low rumbling reverberated throughout the chamber, the wall of rock slowly beginning to crumble away, light filtering in through the cracks in the stone. The small hole of light that had appeared was immediately blocked by James Potter's grinning head.

"Hello, ladies. Miss me?"

"You're back! How did the, uh... errand go?" asked Mariah, glancing at Emilie, who was picking her wand up from where it lay by the tunnel wall. Mariah looked around, seeing her own lying just out of reach of where she had been sitting for the last few hours.

"You're never gonna believe it," said James, "Hang on, stand back!"

The rocks broke free of each other, all levitating on their own back a few feet where they lined up neatly on the sides of the tunnel, leaving a gap large enough for James Potter to step through, and just small enough for the man behind him to follow with only a little difficulty.

"Look who I found hanging around the... grocery store," said James, glancing at Emilie. Mariah didn't answer. One moment she was staring at the man who had followed James, and the next moment she was in his arms, tears running down her face.

"Dad!"

* * *

"Geoff -- Geoff --  _ Geoff, stop _ !" After a mad dash out of the study and down the hallway which was, mercifully, empty, Sirius finally managed to nab the back of the other boy's robes and pull him back to a screeching halt, dragging him behind one of the Lestranges' many out of place antiques cabinets. "Have you lost your bloody mind? We can't just go tearing through the house! Lestrange and Lovell could still be here!"

"It was your bloody idea to come here in the first place!"

A door slammed somewhere in the house and footsteps crossed the floor above them. Both boys froze, eyes tracking the footsteps along the ceiling; the walker was headed toward the staircase and, inevitably, toward them. Sirius opened his mouth to direct Geoff into the nearest room, but the tall redhead was already hurrying down the hallway toward a descending staircase.

"Are you mad?" Sirius hissed, following him. "We're going to get  _ trapped _ down here -- why the fuck would you run  _ downstairs _ \--"

"You said you wanted a real mission," Geoff snapped. "That hand belonged to my dad's best friend. If his hand is in Lestrange's study, the rest of him is probably here, too. Think about it, Sirius, this is a  _ rescue mission _ ."

Sirius frowned but didn't answer, continuing to follow Geoff into the darkness. At the bottom of the stairs, they paused for a moment to let their eyes adjust to the darkness, and continued to listen for more overhead footsteps, but no one pursued them. Once their eyes had adjusted enough that they could see vague outlines of yet more pieces of mismatched, elegant furniture, they proceeded onward into the basement, hands outstretched to feel their way through the blackness.

"I can't see a thing down here," Sirius grumbled. " _ And _ it reeks down here. This is a waste of time. I'm lighting my wand..."

"No, someone'll see." Geoff frowned, but he knew Sirius was right; without a light, it would be impossible to find anything useful down here, but the risk was too great to light a wand. Still, a fully-grown hostage wouldn't be hard to miss, even in total darkness.

"The smell down here is going to make me sick."

"Your attitude is going to make  _ me _ sick."

Now it was Sirius's turn to frown, but for once, he kept his mouth shut. After they'd slowly progressed their way a few meters deeper into the basement, he muttered something about the smell being stronger coming from the left, and they began picking their way in that direction around sofas and chaises and cabinets.

"Well, you know the Lestranges are Slytherins. Who else would have this much furniture?" Sirius asked, shoving a three-legged stool out of his way. "What is your  _ problem _ ?" he added as Geoff scrambled backward several steps. "You can't back out now, it was your idea to come down-- hey, you said no wands, what--  _ oh _ ...."

Geoff had drawn his wand, and in the gentle glow at the tip of it, they could see a corpse hanging from the rafters, left hand severed at the wrist, swaying slightly from where Geoff had bumped into it. For a long moment, the two boys stood, transfixed, staring at the ghastly sight, the body's flesh discolored and rotting away, its teeth visible in an eery, skeletal grin.

The light at the tip of Geoff's wand faltered as he began to shake, shadows dancing on the wall behind the hanged man. "Joel," he breathed.

Sirius glanced sideways at his friend. "Geoff, don't--"

But the ginger had already turned and taken his first few steps toward the staircase, bellowing loudly. Furniture scraped loudly overhead and hurried footsteps pounded across the floor above. Without thinking, Sirius launched himself after Geoff, wrapping his arms around his friend's middle as he tackled him, Disapparating just before the two of them hit the floor. They reappeared in Hogsmeade, just outside the Hog's Head, snow swirling around them in the biting wind. Geoff was instantly on his feet, brandishing his wand at Sirius.

"What the  _ fuck _ , Sirius?  _ What the actual fuck _ ?"

"What the fuck, yourself!" Sirius shouted back, scrambling to his own feet and drawing his own wand. "If we'd been caught, we would've ended up just like -- like Jim, or whatever his name was--"

" _ Joel _ ."

"Whatever! He's already dead! Charging up the stairs howling like a fucking  _ banshee _ with a wand in your hand isn't going to fix that!"

"Oh, suddenly  _ you're _ Mister Rational? Huh? Suddenly  _ you're _ the voice of reason?"

"I'm not the one in love with a girl who's going to be the end of me!"

And suddenly, Geoff's closed fist met Sirius's jaw, and the two of them were on the ground, each trying to land blows on the other, shouting half-obscenities, half-spells, their wands lying forgotten in the snow several feet away. Geoff's blows were wild and unchecked, Sirius easily avoiding nearly all of them as he aimed a few hits of his own. The scuffle was furious and brief, and minutes later, Geoff was lying on the snow with a busted lip, blood streaming out of his nose, Sirius perched on top of him, knee on his chest to keep him down.

"Geoff, listen to me -- no, shut up and listen."

From his place in the snow, Geoff glared sullenly up at Sirius.

"There's taking action, and there's being stupid. Going to attack Lovell and Lestrange single-handedly on their own turf is stupid. Ignoring the fact that Emilie Delacroix is a Death Eater is stupid."

"I'm not ignoring--"

"Caring about a girl whose parents were responsible for your parents' deaths is stupid. It's stupid, and I don't envy you, but I understand. I don't understand why you had to pick  _ her _ , but I understand that love makes you crazy. I understand why even with undeniable proof, you want to believe she's not like them. You want to believe she's one of the good guys. But the fact is, she isn't. The fact is, she's a Death Eater. And if you want to fight back and kill Death Eaters and avenge your parents, I'm right there with you, mate. But we've got to make sure we do it right."

Sirius waited for a moment, but Geoff didn't respond, continuing to glare balefully up at him. Sirius removed his knee from Geoff's chest and climbed to his feet, wincing as he put weight on his left foot. He held out a hand to help his friend to his feet, but Geoff didn't take the hand, keeping his place on the ground, ignoring the blood streaming from his nose. Sirius relinquished the hand and turned, retrieving his wand from its place in the snow before limping his way back toward the castle, leaving Geoff in the snow.


	16. Late

"...wish I could have seen Potter's face when he realized who he'd just seen rescue Jaeger, but, sacrifices, you know?"

Severus's shoulders shook as he chuckled appreciatively. Kurt had been reliving his daring "rescue" of Mariah's father over the past few days, each time embellishing the story a hair more, painting himself -- from Mariah's point of view, anyway -- as the selfless hero, risking life and limb to free her kidnapped father from the clutches of the forces of evil.

"Ah, well, Mariah was happy, and that's what matters. Nothing quite like bringing a smile to your girl's face."

From behind her copy of the  _ Daily Prophet _ , Emilie gave a derisive snort and turned the page.

"Honestly, just wish there was more I could do," Kurt went on. "Really show her I just want the best for her, you know?"

"God, do you ever stop?" Emilie asked, rolling her eyes as she folded her newspaper and tossed it down onto the coffee table in front of her. She stood from her spot on the shamrock green sofa and stretched before picking up her bag and slinging it over her shoulder.

"Where are you off to?" Severus asked. "Bit early to be heading to potions."

"I've got somewhere to be," she answered sharply, brushing past the two boys.

Severus and Kurt exchanged glances, but said nothing as she crossed the common room and disappeared through the sliding wall panel out into the dungeon corridors. It had been four days since Emilie and Mariah had been trapped in the caved-in passageway, and the Slytherin girl had yet to follow up on Mariah's advice and track Geoff down at the Quidditch pitch. The February wind had been bitterly cold all week, but that hadn't stopped Geoff from heading out onto the school grounds -- Emilie had seen him passing through the entrance hall with his broomstick thrown over his shoulder every day this week, but hadn't worked up the nerve or found the words to confront him.

But today was the day.

As she emerged from the dungeon corridors and into the entrance hall, she checked her watch -- 4:15. Geoff would have passed through the entrance hall about ten minutes previously to make his way down to the Quidditch pitch. She'd allowed him a ten minute head start, reasoning that was enough time for him to get to the pitch and set up his equipment, making it less likely for him to just turn and walk away from her. Bracing herself, she opened the front doors of the castle and stepped out into the blustery winter afternoon.

The tracks of countless students coming and going to and from the castle littered the snow, but the freshest set of tracks unmarred by fresh snow led directly toward the Quidditch pitch. She followed this trail, wrapping her cloak a little more tightly around her to guard against the wind.

Still a hundred meters away from the pitch, she saw a single broomstick circling above the stands, the rider clutching a bat in his hand, taking swing after swing at the Bludger darting through the air around him. She felt her heart pounding against her ribcage as she drew nearer. This was it.

She considered grabbing one of the school brooms from the shed but decided against it. This would be easier with both feet firmly on the ground. She took a deep breath and stepped out onto the field, calling up to Geoff and waving him down toward her. She saw him glance down, but he quickly looked back up and took another swing at the Bludger. Then another as it came around a second time, and then a third.

Just as she was thinking borrowing a school broom would be necessary after all, she saw him descending, alighting on the ground a moment later and dismounting, keeping the bat well in hand. She eyed it warily, remembering the night he'd saved her from Rosier's gang, leaving the Slytherin boys with more than a few bruises.

She tried a smile as he crossed the field toward her, stopping twenty yards short of her, but faltered at his stormy expression.

"What in the hell makes you think I want to see you?" he demanded.

"I just -- I wanted to talk," she said. "I thought there were some things we needed to discuss."

"You thought wrong," he said sharply.

"Geoff, please--"

"There is  _ nothing _ we need to talk about," he said, beginning to advance toward her. "You lied to me -- about everything. What makes you think I'd believe anything that came out of your mouth?"

"I didn't--"

"No, you don't get to speak." He swung the bat in time to beat the Bludger away without glancing at it. Emilie took a hesitant step backward. "How long was it going to be before you sold me out to your friends, huh? How long were you going to string me along before you did me in? And what about your Mark -- were you just going to let that be a special surprise for me when you stabbed me in the back?"

Emilie stopped her retreat and balled her fists at her sides, standing her ground and giving him a hard look. She didn't come down here just to be chased away; she had to tell him. "Geoff, I'm late."

"It's not my goddamn fault if you're late to your fucking N.E.W.T. class," he said, swatting the Bludger away again without batting an eye. "I didn't ask you to come--"

"No, Geoff," she said forcefully, interrupting him. "I'm  _ late _ ."

He frowned at her, his brow furrowed, uncomprehending. Then, slowly, comprehension dawned, and his eyes widened, his mouth falling open slightly as he understood. "Oh," he said, and then again, quieter, "oh."

"Just thought you ought to know," she said. "Cheers," she added, adjusting her grip on her bag and turning to walk away. She half-hoped he would call out after her, ask her to wait, catch her arm,  _ something _ \-- but instead he stood silently rooted to the spot, gaping after her.

The " _ oof! _ " behind her as the Bludger knocked him off his feet and into the snow gave her no small amount of satisfaction.

* * *

Once he had managed to wrestle the Bludger back into its case and returned the Quidditch balls to the broom shed -- trying to ignore the throbbing in his ribs where the Bludger had hit him as Emilie had walked away -- Geoff made his way back up to the castle, his head swimming. So much had happened in such a short span. Everything with Emilie would have been enough for anyone to deal with, but Geoff's parents had been dead barely four months, and already their best friend had joined them. For the past week, Geoff's nightmares had been haunted by the sight of Joel Morrison's decaying body swaying in the Lestranges' basement. The severed hand with the tallow candle was tucked neatly away at the bottom of his trunk; he and Sirius had barely spoken at all since their reconnaissance mission, and certainly not about the mission itself. Their report to Dumbledore had been cut short by the reappearance of Mariah's father, and Dumbledore had asked Geoff to meet in his office to finish the report. It would be the first time in nearly a week that Geoff had actually spoken about the things they'd seen at the Lestranges'.

"Acid pop," he said absently to the gargoyle, and it leapt aside, revealing the staircase leading to the headmaster's office. Dumbledore was seated behind the desk and glanced up. The headmaster gestured to a chair in front of his desk. "Ah, Mr. Mansfield, just the man I wanted to see. Sit, please. Not been fighting again, I hope?" he added, eying the fading bruises on Geoff's face.

"Quidditch practice. Think those Bludgers have gotten a little faster this year," Geoff lied, laughing weakly. The laughed died as Dumbledore raised his eyebrows, and he cleared his throat. "You said you wanted to see me, sir?"

"Yes." Dumbledore rifled through a stack of parchments on his desk until he found the one he was looking for. He raised it up and adjusted his half-moon spectacles to read it. "I've just received an owl from Mrs. Claire Morrison -- Aunt Claire to you, I believe? She wishes you well and hopes you're holding up."

Geoff felt the pit of his stomach drop. "She sent you an owl to tell me that?" he asked.

"Well, it seems her letters to you have gone unanswered these past few days, and with the recent loss of her husband, she was concerned that some misfortune had befallen you, as well," Dumbledore answered, laying the parchment down on the desk and looking across at Geoff. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. "It's not wise to distance ourselves from our loved ones in these dark times, Geoff," Dumbledore said at last.

"I know, it's just -- Claire and Joel are like family to me. They're all I have left. I didn't want... I was afraid if I answered her letters, I'd draw attention to her, and Voldemort would..."

He trailed off as Dumbledore raised a hand to silence him. "Geoff, if Voldemort's forces were able to detain and kill Joel, it's likely they already know Claire's location. Answering her letters will put her in no more danger than she's already in, and responses from you may provide her some comfort in these dark times. I would advise you to let her know you're alive and well."

"Yes, sir."

"Now, the other reason I wanted to speak with you," Dumbledore went on, setting Claire's letter aside, "was to ask you for more details about what you saw at the Lestranges'. I understand it must have been a trying experience for you, and if you aren't ready to discuss it--"

"No, I'm ready. I can talk about it."

"You're certain? I'm sure Mr. Black would be more than happy to fill in some of the blanks if you would prefer not to discuss it." Dumbledore waited for a nod of affirmation from Geoff. "Very well, then. I apologize for not being able to follow up sooner, but with the return of Ms. Jaeger's father--well, you understand. Although I am disappointed that you and Mr. Black disregarded your explicit instructions to observe from  _ outside _ the Lestrange home, I would like to know what prompted the two of you to enter."

"We saw someone go in. Sirius reckoned it was Aldrik Lovell, so we followed him. We heard him talking to Lestrange in his study, something about looking for a dark magical artifact for Voldemort to use in the war."

"Do you have any idea what this artifact could be?" Dumbledore asked.

Geoff shook his head. "We didn't hear that part. Just that they don't know where it is, but Voldemort wants it. Then we went down into the basement to see if we could find any clues about the artifact, and that's when we found -- we found Joel. And then we left."

"And you said Joel was hanging when you found him?"

Geoff swallowed hard before answering. "Yes, sir."

"And he was missing a hand?"

Joel's dried, corrupted hand immediately sprang to mind with its thick tallow candle clutched in its petrified grasp, tucked away in the bottom of his trunk. "Yes, sir."

"Did you see any evidence of where Mr. Morrison's missing hand could be?"

"No, sir," Geoff answered, perhaps a little too quickly.

Dumbledore looked down at the surface of his desk, littered with stacks of parchment and delicate silver instruments, deep in thought. At length, he looked back up at Geoff. "Are there any other details from that day you can recall?"

"No, sir."

Dumbledore tilted his head forward to look at him over the rims of his spectacles. "You're certain there's nothing else?"

"Certain."

"Then I expect you'll be heading to potions now," Dumbledore said. "I hear N.E.W.T.s are nastily exhausting things, and I'd recommend attending class as the best way to prepare."

"Thank you, sir," Geoff said, standing. "If there's anything else I can do--"

"I'll be sure to keep you informed," Dumbledore finished for him. "Please ask Professor Slughorn to forgive me for making you late." 


	17. Overdue

The Marauders arrived at the Gryffindor table long after most of the students had finished their lunches and exited the Great Hall. James and Sirius hadn't made it to N.E.W.T. level Potions, and now had a convenient block of time in the late afternoon where they normally would have run around causing mayhem for Filch, but without the map they'd let things slow down on the recreational chaos front. Peter was in the same boat, though he normally went to the library then to reread what they had learned in the previous class, slow learner as he was, and Remus had enough pull with the teachers to get away with little things like tardiness, model student that he was. 

James, Remus, and Peter seemed content, but Sirius was distracted. He hadn't felt right since his fight with Geoff. His own words kept coming back to him. 

_ "It's stupid, and I don't envy you, but I understand. I don't understand why you had to pick her, but I understand that love makes you crazy." _

He did understand, didn't he. He'd been crazy for the majority of the year. He'd expended more effort on sabotage of one person than he had ever before. He used to always spread the sabotage around, after all, fair is fair, an eye for an eye, and if they hadn't taken an eye yet he'd preemptively take two. But stalking? For months? That was new. But was it because of...

_ I understand why even with undeniable proof, you want to believe she's not like them. You want to believe she's one of the good guys. But the fact is, she isn't.  _

Was Mariah one of the good guys? Outside of the Order what had she done? She was a victim, but did being a victim make her a good guy? When he really thought about it, she'd been saved far more than she'd done any saving. What did it matter if Kurt saved her family? If he saved her? More would die, hell, Geoff's family was on its last legs. How long before they finished him off? Would Kurt save him as well? Would Mariah even ask him to?

"You alright, mate?" asked James, watching Sirius pick at his cheese sandwich. 

"Yeah," said Sirius."Where'd you say you found him?" 

"Told you, Mariah was stuck in a cave-in, so I was standing out front of Rosier's and hid when I saw someone running towards the gate. I realized it was Kurt Lovell, and saw him push Mariah's dad out into the street and tell him to run, and then he Disapparated."

"Just like that, huh?" asked Sirius.

"Yeah. I intercepted him when I saw he was injured, found out who he was, brought him back with me. Of course Emilie saw, but I mean, she didn't look like her heart was in it. Following us, I mean. I think it was harmless that she saw, she said she wouldn't say anything. What's that look for?" 

"Just… seems a bit easy, doesn't it? Mariah's been worried sick about her dad since Christmas and Kurt's been a straight up dick about it, and then Mariah finds  _ Hellion Hexes _ under his bed and he says he's playing the Death Eater in order to get her dad back to her safely, and then the  _ same day _ we have our surveillance missions he manages to make that happen? And on top of that he's got the Mark..."

"Maybe he is just trying to keep her safe," said Remus. "After all, if his dad's as intense as you say he is, wouldn't it be more strategic for Kurt to play along and get the upper hand on the inside in order to make things go the way he wants?" 

"That's just it, though. He can make things go the way  _ he _ wants. That's all well and good if it's Mariah's safety he wants but what if what he wants isn't so altruistic. What if it works the other way, too?" asked Sirius. Peter frowned.

"What do you mean?" 

"What if he's staying just good enough to stay on Mariah's good side so he can use her, too?" asked Sirius. He took a bite of his sandwich without really tasting it. 

"Sirius, you always think he's using her but Mariah said she hasn't given him any information about the Order or anything at all," said James, reaching over and taking a big bite out of Sirius's sandwich. 

"I don't think she knows she's being used," said Sirius, ignoring James's baiting. "And if anything, the safe delivery of her dad is going to make her open up to him even more. She'll be especially vulnerable." 

"True," noted James through a mouthful of sandwich.

"So what are you saying, you don't trust her anymore?" asked Remus.

"I just feel like she's being manipulated," said Sirius. "I want to believe she's one of the good guys. But the fact is, she isn't." 

Sirius pushed his plate away, stretching.

"But… she's not one of the bad guys, Sirius, you know that as well as any of us," said Remus. "I don't know about Kurt, but Mariah's not a bad guy." Sirius dropped his arms. 

"You don't have to be a bad guy to not be a good guy. Being passive can cause just as much damage." 

"What are you going to do?" asked James as Sirius got to his feet. Sirius hesitated. 

"I'm going to go for a walk," he said, heading for the entrance hall.

"See you, mate!" called James after him. Sirius waved.

With March approaching, students were starting to get serious about their end of the year exams, distant though they may be, and the castle was quiet. Sirius made his way towards the Spiral Staircase, heading for the third floor.

_ I'm not the one in love with a girl who's going to be the end of me... _

She would be in Potions. 

Sirius paused at the bottom of the stairs, instead turning around and heading down the corridor to the dungeons. 

A few students were still filing into the N.E.W.T. class. Sirius lurked in the corner, watching the stairs. He stepped out when he saw Mariah.

"Hey," he said gruffly. She stopped, surprised. Kurt was with her.

"Hey, Sirius, what's up?" 

"You lost?" asked Kurt, grinning. Sirius swallowed the fury that rose sharply and focused on Mariah instead. 

"Was wondering if we could talk," he said in a very controlled voice. 

"Uh, Sirius, I have class," she said. 

"It's important," said Sirius. Mariah glanced at Kurt.

"Um, yeah sure," she said. Sirius waited. Kurt shrugged, kissing Mariah on the cheek.

"See you inside," he said, heading into the classroom with the rest of the students. Sirius waited until Slughorn closed the door to start class. 

"What is it?" asked Mariah. 

"Did you tell Dumbledore where you found the book?" asked Sirius. Mariah paused.

"C'mon, Sirius, you don't still think Kurt stole it, do you?" she asked, grinning nervously. "After what he did? He risked his life to--"

"Get your dad back to you, yes I know, but Mariah… it was under  _ his _ bed. Not Rosier's, not Avery's..."

"He was keeping it safe from them, so they couldn't use it," said Mariah confidently.

"He has the Mark," said Sirius.

"He got it so he could protect me," said Mariah. 

"Come  _ on _ , Mariah, he hand delivered your dad to James on the only day this week we did surveillance at that location. Nevermind that that location was assigned to  _ you _ ." 

"Sirius, I don't know what to tell you," said Mariah, shaking her head. "I'm done fighting your paranoia, and I'm done with you trying to split us up, and I'm tired, so tired, of your rants about Death Eaters and Slytherins and the 'enemy,' just because you're jealous--"

"Dammit Mariah, this is serious! You think I'm making a big deal about this because of some stupid crush? People are dying! Maybe not your dad anymore, but Geoff's family members are dropping like flies, there are families that've been torn apart posted in the  _ Daily Prophet _ every day now, you can't deny that we are at war! I'm only concerned for your safety, and the safety of everyone else in this school!"

"So is Kurt," said Mariah.

"That snake couldn't give two shits about what happens to anyone else in this school, and you know it," said Sirius. He dropped his voice. "Members of the Order put their lives on the line to protect others and fight dark wizards. What do you care about more, Mariah? Your boyfriend or being loyal to the Order?" 

"What makes you think I have to choose?" Mariah countered. 

"In that case, let's go tell Dumbledore where you found the book," said Sirius. Mariah frowned, but said nothing. Sirius shook his head. "That's what I thought. Stupid."

"I'm not stupid, Sirius," said Mariah, rolling her eyes, but Sirius was already headed back up the stairs to the entrance hall. "Where are you going?"

"To tell Dumbledore where you got that book," said Sirius. Mariah blanched. 

"Don't--Sirius, wait!"

She followed him up the stairs, pleading with him.

"We don't know what he'll do to him! Emilie says Dumbledore holds people captive that he doesn't even tell us about. What if he takes Kurt to interrogate him? What if he kicks him out of school? I just think we should sit back and see what happens. I mean, if Kurt saved my dad who's to know who else he could save. And as for Geoff, I feel awful for him, but maybe Kurt can only rescue one person at a time, and my dad had a better chance of survival than Geoff's friend. Maybe he tried his best and couldn't save both of them without getting noticed. You know his father's so into the pureblood fix you know he'd probably do anything for the Dark Lord, but Kurt can help our side if we just trust him!"

"Do you hear yourself? You've gone native, Jesus..." said Sirius, shooting her a look as he headed up the Spiral Staircase. " _ The Dark Lord? _ You sound like a fucking follower..."

"I'm just trying to see things from his perspective, something you should probably try. It's okay for you, without your family on your back anymore, but what good is that for us? Who can you save from this side?" challenged Mariah. 

"Who can  _ you _ save, Mariah? You're sleeping with an asshole who associates only with people who have been tied to attacks and murder. I can see you've really been working that angle to save some lives lately."

"That's not fair, Sirius."

"You know what's not fair? Watching your family and friends die because of a schoolgirl crush," said Sirius, exiting the staircase at the third floor.

"Sirius, stop! Please, I love him."

Sirius looked around at her incredulously.

"Since  _ when? _ " he asked.

"Since he brought me my dad back!" said Mariah. Sirius stared at her.

"That's called  _ euphoria _ you dumb fucking..."

He doubled his pace down the third floor corridor towards the gargoyle statue, Mariah running to catch up. 

"Acid Pop," said Sirius, and the gargoyle statue leapt aside. He stepped forward, but Mariah grabbed his sleeve. 

"Sirius, please."

Sirius stopped, but didn't look at her. 

"I think you're making a mistake," he said. "And I think that you're in danger. But most of all I think you're putting others at risk with your determination to ignore the facts. I may not be able to save you, with your thick fucking skull and all, but I can save them."

"What?"

"I'm sorry, Mariah," said Sirius, looking around at her. "I really am. I'm sorry for dogging you the first half of the year, I'm sorry for not trusting you to make your own decisions, and I'm sorry I made them more difficult for you. If I hadn't done anything, you might believe me now. If the Order means anything to you, you'll tell Dumbledore the truth yourself. But no matter what your choice is, he's going to learn the truth in the next five minutes." 

He walked up the stairs to Dumbledore's office. Mariah hesitated, then followed him up.

Dumbledore was at his desk when they entered. 

"Ah, Mr. Black, Miss Jaeger, how are you. Miss Jaeger, you will be pleased to know that St. Mungo's wrote me today to say that your father has made a remarkable recovery and should be fit to return home any day now."

"Thank you, sir, uh..." 

"We came to tell you something, sir," said Sirius, looking pointedly at Mariah. 

"Oh? Do go on," said Dumbledore, putting down his quill and leaning forward attentively. A few moments passed where Sirius looked at Mariah, who fidgeted, but did not speak. Sirius turned back to Dumbledore. 

" _ I _ came to tell you something," he said. "When we recovered  _ Hellion Hexes _ , we didn't just find it in the Slytherin common room, we found it under Kurt Lovell's bed."

"I see… Miss Jaeger," Dumbledore stood, approaching from behind his desk, "why did you not inform me of this?" 

"I… I thought… I thought it might be a mistake. A misunderstanding," said Mariah awkwardly. 

"Oh? How so?" asked Dumbledore.

"Well… I mean, I thought perhaps Kurt was holding it for a friend," said Mariah. She heard how stupid she sounded, and blushed. 

"Is there any evidence to support that theory?" asked Dumbledore. 

"I… I'm not sure," said Mariah. "But Professor Dumbledore, please. He risked his life to get my father back to me, he's never been concerned for anything but my safety. He--" She stopped, on the verge of telling Dumbledore about the Dark Mark burned into his arm. "He says he's trying to protect me, but he's stretched very thin," she said finally. 

"Well that's very noble of Mr. Lovell, risking himself to protect you. But does he concern himself equally with the safety of others?" asked Dumbledore. Mariah didn't say anything. "Miss Jaeger, I want you to understand the serious implications this book carries. You opened this book to find a hit list of not only yourself, but several of your friends. Did you report it to me? No. It was stolen from you, and you managed to find it again only to find that it was full of even more terrible threats. Through my examinations, I've found that not only does it contain that gruesome image, but it is still a functioning list for those with the key to see it. This book is being used to communicate with the Death Eaters outside of Hogwarts, and possibly Voldemort himself, and you did nothing to stop it."

"I… I'm sorry," said Mariah, her eyes filling with tears. "I didn't know..." 

"And yet you see the center image, plain as day. Did it not occur to you that the person harboring this book might be actively using it, despite excuses?" said Dumbledore. "Love is a fickle thing, Miss Jaeger, which is why we must be so very careful when choosing whom we can trust with our hearts. We must be even more careful, however, when choosing whom we can trust with our lives. Tell me, would you still love Kurt Lovell if you found he had murdered people at Voldemort's request? If he is indeed communicating with Death Eaters outside of Hogwarts, there is always a chance that they could request this of him.  _ Hellion Hexes _ is proof that they have already requested this to be done. Can you live happily ever after with the blood of innocents on your hands?"

Mariah was crying openly now. Sirius was shaken by Dumbledore's words, but said nothing. He agreed, after all. Mariah had to learn. Dumbledore fixed her with a particularly steady stare.

"When you originally found this book, did you know it belonged to Kurt Lovell?" he asked. Mariah stared back at him, transfixed. 

"It was Avery's book," she said in kind of a dazed voice, "But Kurt and the Lestranges were looking for it, in the Invisibility Section where Avery left it for them."

"And did you ever mention to Mr. Lovell that you had this book in your possession?" asked Dumbledore.

"No," said Mariah. 

"And did you ever mention anything about the Order of the Phoenix to Mr. Lovell?" 

"No."

"And did he ever mention anything to you about being involved in Death Eater activity?" 

"His father forced him to get the Dark Mark. He said he was being watched by everyone, that he was under a lot of stress."

"Miss Jaeger, I think it would be prudent if you were no longer involved with the Order," said Dumbledore suddenly, breaking his stare, and Mariah blinked as though waking from a dream. "We have no need for those who might betray us merely because it is the easiest course of action."

Dumbledore put his hand on Mariah's head and closed his eyes. 

" _ Obliviate _ ."

"Woah, wait!" cried Sirius, but Mariah had slumped to the floor. Sirius knelt beside her quickly, shaking her. "What did you do?"

"I modified her memory. She is in a very dangerous position, so close to Kurt Lovell, that I think it would be best if she had no knowledge of the Order at all," said Dumbledore, waving his wand. "If you would carry her back to Gryffindor Tower and put her to bed, she won't remember this conversation when she wakes up, nor any events involving the Order over the past few months."

"What? What about what happened over Christmas -- her family?" 

"Her father will be home soon, none the wiser to anything that's happened to him. Miss Jaeger will have a week off of school to go home and recuperate with him. We've already modified her brother's memory of the incident. As far as they're concerned, he was attacked by muggle burglars. Miss Jaeger won't remember being present for the attacks, nor the time after while she was in the Order's care."

"What about Lovell?" asked Sirius.

"Oh, I imagine he'll be quite disappointed once he figures out she is no longer as useful to him as she once was," said Dumbledore. "I am concerned, however, that Mr. Lovell may be more active than we originally thought, if he is under so much pressure. We would do well to keep an eye on him."

"What do I tell Lily and James and the others?" he asked. 

"Tell them the truth, of course. Though I do think it would be a good idea to keep your distance from Miss Jaeger for a while, especially you. See how she behaves, and tell me at once if she mentions anything more about Kurt Lovell's activities outside the school."

"Right..." said Sirius slowly.

"Mariah never pledged her life to the Order, Sirius. She was thrown in by chance. And serving the Order is a burden that should not be taken on unless one is ready to risk everything. Mariah is not ready for that now -- and she may never be. Understand that. Now, best take her back quickly. She'll be awake soon," said Dumbledore. Sirius picked Mariah up, getting to his feet. Dumbledore waved him out of his office, and Sirius descended into the hall, staring at Mariah's limp, snoring form, and wondering why his plan to tell Dumbledore suddenly felt so, so wrong. 


	18. The Goblet of Fire, October 1994

**October 30, 1994**

The sun was low enough to peek underneath the ratty curtains, casting a glow on the many dust motes floating through the air, but it didn't do much to make the dingy room look any more beautiful. A rusty toll of a clock in the bar downstairs echoed through the thick wooden door, and Mariah shifted in the bed.

"I'd better go," she said, slipping out from under the sheets and combing her hair with her fingers. She walked to the rickety wooden chair in the corner where she had thrown her clothes earlier and untangled her underwear from her robes. The man in the bed sat up, rubbing his head. 

"Triwizard Tournament starts today?" he asked. Mariah pulled her underwear up over her thighs, noting one or two bruises on her ass. 

"Yeah, I sent my bags ahead, but Dumbledore wants me there by dinner. You think you could take it easy next time?" She indicated her bruises.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. I get excitable around this time of the month," said the man. Mariah smirked, pulling on her robes. 

"I'll say."

"When will I see you again?" asked the man.

"Next week?" asked Mariah.

"Sounds good. You'd better get going, Mariah." 

"Right, oh, almost forgot." Mariah pulled a small box from her bag and tossed it to the man. "There's a week's worth of potion in there. It should last you until next time." 

"Thanks. I can actually stomach yours," said the man. 

"That's because I add honeysuckle, for flavor. Doesn't have the same effect as sugar. I should patent it," Mariah finished thoughtfully. 

"Yeah yeah. See you next week, Mariah."

"See you, Remus." 

Mariah closed the door, adjusting her robes one last time, and headed for the stairs.

The Hog's Head pub was fairly far down the high street in Hogsmeade, but Mariah felt like walking. She glanced at the distant outline of the Shrieking Shack before heading the other direction. It seemed almost like a dream, all of the events that had happened the previous spring. Sirius had returned, and he had been innocent. All those years she had spent thinking and drinking and wondering why, now explained away with a simple secret switch. 

But why hadn't Lily told her? Well, Mariah thought to herself, that was fair. She'd been engaged to Kurt at the time. It had been a confusing time. And Remus had been… well, the werewolves and other infected persons had been siding with Voldemort. There had been so many supporters, and so many secrets. So many lies. Who was to know who was good and who was bad? Mariah shook her head. It was no time to dwell on the past. 

But the past had caught up with her, it was inarguable. Being brought back to Hogwarts year after year to watch over James and Lily's son, Harry. Seeing Dumbledore again, seeing Geoff, seeing Remus... 

Mariah bit her lip and grinned a little. After Remus had resigned and her tenure at Hogwarts had ended in spring they had continued to meet up over the summer, drinking, talking about old times, and one thing had led to another. It wasn't serious -- both of them had their reasons -- but both had been lacking a certain degree of intimacy for many years as a side effect of their stressful lives. Plus it was a convenient arrangement for Mariah to pick up where Snape left off on supplying Remus with his Aconite potion. There was no way the Potions Master of Hogwarts would continue that role in a million years, and that potion was particularly hard to come by. 

She was coming up on the gates, now, crossing the border to the Hogwarts grounds. The sun hung low over the Forbidden Forest, casting a sunset orange hue over the lawn. When she had walked a little further, Mariah saw the entire school standing just outside the entrance hall, students haphazardly arranged by house with faculty lined around the back row. She approached the huddle and wandered through the crowd until she found Geoff. 

"Oh, Mariah, you're starting today?" he asked.

"Yeah. What's all this for?" asked Mariah.

"Beauxbatons and Durmstrang," said Geoff. "They should be arriving any min--" 

"Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!" Dumbledore called from the center of the back row. Geoff and Mariah looked up, along with the rest of the school. 

A powder blue horse-drawn carriage was descending from the sky, driven by a dozen giant palomino horses.

"Oh no, no way. One two three… ten, eleven,  _ twelve _ of them? On top of the bloody skrewts?" Geoff was muttering under his breath. 

The carriage landed, and a very large elegant woman emerged, accompanied by a dozen shivering teenagers all dressed in silk robes. 

"Oh no," groaned Geoff again as Dumbledore welcomed the arrival from Beauxbatons.

"What is it now?" asked Mariah. 

"Delacroix," hissed Geoff.

"What?"

"I'd appreciate it if you two kept your thoughts in your head and out of your mouth," came a sneer, and the two of them looked around to see Snape standing on Geoff's other side, staring straight ahead. 

"Oh… hi, Snape," said Mariah.

"Don't get me started, Jaeger. I don't know why Dumbledore saw fit to hire you back here again this year, but when I find out I'll do everything in my power to talk him back out of that particularly unfortunate decision." 

"Good to see you, too," sighed Mariah.

"I don't doubt you had something to do with Black's escape in spring, so this year you'd better watch your--"

A giant ship erupted from the surface of the lake, and the surprised cries of the students in front of them drowned out the rest of Snape's words. As the ship settled, a gangplank fell to the banks of the lake and a group of people disembarked, approaching Dumbledore. There were again, a dozen students dressed in hulking furs, and at the forefront was...

"Karkaroff?" breathed Mariah.

"Karkaroff?" repeated Geoff.

"Karkaroff," hissed Snape.

"Dumbledore!" called Karkaroff, grinning as he stepped into the light of the entrance hall. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," replied Dumbledore cheerily. 

"Dumbledore's got to be doing this on purpose," groaned Mariah.

"You'd think he would notice the trend," muttered Geoff.

They both looked at Snape, who glanced at them, but looked straight ahead once more.

"...I don't disagree," he said finally. 

The Durmstrang students were passing the Hogwarts students into the entrance hall, Dumbledore walking with Karkaroff. Everyone turned and followed, filing into the great hall. They bottlenecked at the door, students and teachers alike shuffling as those in front of them filed through.

"Oh, Nurse Jaeger, you're back," said a voice, and Mariah turned around.

"Oh, hello Hermione," she said. "Yeah, Dumbledore thought some extra Hospital Wing staff on hand would be a good idea this year." 

"Because of the death toll?" asked Hermione.

"Well ye--"

"Never you mind, Miss Granger, Dumbledore will be providing the details of the Tournament in time," interjected Geoff, glaring at Mariah. Hermione watched them suspiciously as they shuffled on through the door and headed to the staff table.

Mariah took a seat by Geoff, and Snape detached to take up residence as far away from the pair of them as possible. Mariah looked down the table. Filch was adding chairs on either side of Dumbledore, five of them, and just on the other side of Geoff sat--

"Mad-Eye?" Mariah said, surprised. The grizzled, choppy head turned around to face her, and she saw that Moody's magical, electric blue eye had already fixed on her when she had sat down. 

"Mariah Jaeger," said Moody shortly. "Long time, no see." 

"Yeah… that's new, is it? It's nice," said Mariah, indicating Moody's eye.

"New to you, maybe," said Moody, popping open a hip flask and drinking deeply from it, grimacing. 

"Who else is coming?" asked Mariah, leaning back to talk to Geoff again. She felt a little self-conscious, and though she couldn't see Moody's eye anymore she couldn't help feeling watched. "Filch put five chairs out? Two for the headmasters, but who else?"

"Triwizard judges," said Geoff. "Ministry officials."

Dumbledore stood then, and the hall went silent. 

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and -- most particularly -- guests," said Dumbledore. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable. The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast. I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

Food appeared on their plates as if by magic, only it was actually magic. Mariah dug in immediately. She hadn't noticed how hungry she was, and blamed her little romp that afternoon. She glanced around the hall, her eyes landing on the Gryffindor table. Harry Potter sat next to Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger near the center. He was laughing with James's laugh and smiling with Lily's smile. Mariah blinked, and helped herself to more bouillabaisse. She watched them wave hello to Hagrid as he entered the hall and headed to the staff table. A very pretty girl from the Beauxbatons students walked up and asked them for their bouillabaisse, taking it back to her table, after which Harry, Ron, and Hermione delved back into conversation. Mariah stared blankly at them. She thought about how she used to sit at that table once upon a time, laughing, talking, joking, smiling...

Harry looked at her, and she jumped, looking sharply back at her plate and appearing twice as interested in her food as before. 

"Hey," Geoff nudged her. "Look who's here."

He was indicating the previously empty chairs on Dumbledore's other side. Mariah leaned forward to see. There was Ludo Bagman, a beaming, happy-go-lucky man famous for his term as a Beater for the Wimborne Wasps, and famous in Mariah's own experience for being the stupid little second year who bought 'dormant' doxy eggs from a Slytherin only to have them hatch a day later in his school bag in the middle of Transfiguration. On his other side was Barty Crouch, former Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and current Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. And on his other side was--

"Mother _ fucker _ !" Mariah hissed, cringing back into her seat. A few students from the Hufflepuff table stared, but Mariah didn't care. On Barty Crouch's other side was someone she had hoped never to see again, at Hogwarts or out and about; someone who had caused her a great deal of pain, and who was currently smirking to no one in particular, happy that he had managed to work his way into Hogwarts on an invitation; someone who flashed her a smile as she felt her appetite disappear as her stomach turned inside out.

"I thought he was chasing Sirius," said Geoff in a low voice.

"He  _ was _ !" hissed Mariah back. 

"He's coming over," said Geoff, returning to his food with doubled attention.

"He's  _ not _ ," said Mariah desperately.

"Well, well, well," said a slick voice from just over her shoulder, and she felt a hand on the other shoulder. "Good to see you again, Mariah. Mansfield."

"Mm," Geoff grunted through his blancmange.

"I trust you're both well."

"What do you want now?" asked Mariah, annoyed. 

"Oh, I'm just stopping over to say hi to a few old acquaintances. I have to be getting back to Mr. Crouch now. Much to discuss, you see."

"About what? Discuss what? What are you doing here?" 

"Oh, you'll soon find out," said Kurt, drumming his fingers over her clavicle before turning around and returning to his seat.

"Find out what?" repeated Mariah apprehensively. 

"Asshole," muttered Geoff.

"Why is he here?"

"Probably the same reason Bagman and Crouch are here," said Geoff. 

"...but… the Tournament? But that's… that lasts all year..."

Dumbledore stood again as the plates wiped clean and Geoff shushed Mariah quietly. 

"The moment has come," said Dumbledore. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket, just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation." The students applauded politely. "Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports." There was a much more excitable round of applause. Mariah and Geoff exchanged looks. "And finally, Mr. Kurt Lovell, Head of the Department of Investigation." To this there were scattered, confused applause.

"Mr. Bagman, Mr. Lovell, and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "and Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts. Mr. Lovell will remain a partial staff member at Hogwarts for the duration of the year for security purposes."

"A  _ staff _ member!?" hissed Mariah a little loudly. The same Hufflepuffs as before glared at her once more, and Geoff shushed her, but she couldn't hide her look of horror as Kurt smiled around at the crowd of students. 

Dumbledore had moved on.

"The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."

Filch approached Dumbledore, carrying a large, jewel-encrusted chest. 

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman, and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways.. their magical prowess - their daring - their powers of deduction - and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."

The students were collectively holding their breath.

"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," Dumbledore went on, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."

He tapped the chest in front of him, and withdrew a rough, old, wooden cup full to the brim with blue-white flames.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.

"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," said Dumbledore, "I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."


	19. Déjà Vu

**March, 1977**

With a particularly loud snore, Mariah's hazel eyes snapped open and she looked around in alarm. The library had emptied and the lights had been doused so that everything lay in darkness. She sat up and looked down at the book she'd been reading, but could only see the carpet where her body should have been.

"Dammit..." She'd fallen asleep in the Invisibility Section again. She pulled herself to her feet, felt around for her bag, throwing it over her shoulder, and staggered sleepily out of the library.

N.E.W.T. tests were coming up on the horizon, and Mariah, in a panic, realized that she had forgotten the majority of what she had learned the previous semester. On top of that, she was due to go home the following week to spend some time with her father, who was recovering from a burglary. Subsequently, she had been up late every day the past few weeks studying in the Library. Only the most comfortable reading area just happened to be the wall next to the Invisibility Section.

She ran down the hallway as quickly as she could without her shoes slapping against the marble floors, pausing at every corner to peek and make sure no one was coming. Just as she was nearing the Spiral Staircase, however, she heard a noise and stopped dead, flattening against the wall in an attempt to blend in with the shadows. Distant footsteps echoed through the hallway, but they seemed to be heading away from her. Mariah edged along the wall, then turned and ran down the next hallway so fast she almost ran smack into somebody walking the other direction.

Mariah yelped, and the somebody quickly put a hand over her mouth.

"Jesus christ, keep it down," hissed Sirius. It took a moment for him to recognize her in the dark. "Oh fucking  _ perfect _ . It's you." Mariah frowned as Sirius ran a hand down his face. "What the hell are  _ you _ doing out here?"

"I fell asleep in the Library," said Mariah. "What are you doing out here?"

"I thought Madame Pince checks the Library before closing up," said Sirius.

"I fell asleep in the--"

"Invisibility Section," Sirius finished her sentence along with her. "Of course you did."

"...So why are you out here again?" 

"Because I do what I want. Come on, Filch will have heard your girly scream."

Sirius took Mariah's arm and led her back to the Spiral Staircase, ignoring her indignant huffing sounds at his comment. 

"Ok, go to bed."

"Are you not coming with me?" 

"I'm going to ignore that," said Sirius. "Hurry, before Filch--"

" _ Well, well, well, students out of bed! _ "

"Motherfucker..." sighed Sirius, looking around. "Filch."

"Black, how nice to see you again," said Filch, grinning a yellow smile from ear to ear. "And the Jaeger girl. Naughty. It'll be a week's detentions no doubt."

"My schedule's a little full, can we make it next September?" asked Sirius. Filch's grin turned upside down very quickly.

"Clear out, both of you. Your paperwork will be processed in the morning."

"Great," huffed Sirius under his breath as he climbed the last few stairs of the Spiral Staircase onto the landing of Gryffindor Tower. "Thanks a lot, Jaeger."

"I'm not the one who--"

"Drooble's Best," said Sirius loudly, knocking on the Fat Lady's portrait. She awoke sharply, glaring down at them as she swung open. Sirius marched off to the boys dormitories before Mariah could get another word in edgewise.

"Who's there?" 

A ginger head rose from behind a squashy red velvet couch that faced the far window, and Mariah saw that it was Geoff.

"Mariah? What were you and Sirius doing out so late?"

"I fell asleep in the library, I don't know what his deal is," said Mariah, sighing. She glanced at the Girls' Dormitories, then went to take a seat next to Geoff instead. "Filch caught us. A week's detentions, he said."

"Rough," said Geoff. 

"Yeah," said Mariah. "Doesn't help that Sirius's been in a real mood lately. He doesn't even have the energy to fight anymore. Weird, huh?"

"Yeah… weird," said Geoff.

"So what are you doing up so late?"

"Er… couldn't sleep," said Geoff. 

"I'm not with you there, Mansfield, I feel like I'm about to pass out," said Mariah, stretching. She stood, striding off towards the Girls' Dormitories. "See you."

"See you," said Geoff. He waited until Mariah had left the common room, then uncovered the notebook he'd been writing in and continued adding a full report of his night shift reconnaissance of the castle.


	20. In Too Deep

"Remind me again why you can't just get your mail delivered to the Great Hall like everyone else?" Sirius asked. He reached for the folded piece of parchment in Geoff's hand, but his heart wasn't in it, and the lanky ginger deftly moved the letter out of Sirius's reach.

"Don't worry about it, mate," he answered. "Besides, this way we get first dibs on the morning news, remember?"

The morning ritual of Sirius trying stealing Geoff's mail and James taking the  _ Prophet _ was still intact, but petty squabbles over the mail had become lackluster as the year had progressed. Admittedly, James's scouring of the  _ Daily Prophet _ was much more thorough now than it had been in the past, rigorously scanning through every column on every page for hints of subtle Death Eater movements rather than just skimming the front page for news of major attacks, but this simple routine helped keep a sense of normalcy about everything despite all that had happened.

The Gryffindors settled into their usual seats at their table in the Great Hall, piling their plates high with sausage and bacon and toast, passing around pages of newsprint and jars of marmalade and pitchers of pumpkin juice. With the spring term drawing to a close and exams quickly approaching, textbooks and rolls of parchment were not uncommon decorations at the tables, and the conversation often revolved around their impending N.E.W.T.s as much as it did the war. And it wasn't just them. Since their release from the Hospital Wing, Alice Prewett and Frank Longbottom had joined in on their meetings. The only noticeable absence was Lily, who had also been released from the Hospital Wing, but was resigned to distancing Mariah from the Order following her discharge. The two of them sat at the far end of the Gryffindor table, both of them glancing over every so often, Lily wistfully, and Mariah with some confusion.

As Geoff poured himself another goblet of pumpkin juice, he glanced over at the Slytherin table. Lovell and Snape and Rosier were crowded together at one end of the table, the rest of their gang crowded around them, speaking in confidential tones, occasionally glancing over their shoulders and pointing at other students scattered around the Hall. Emilie was back in her old place at Rosier's side, although she no longer held his hand like she used to. That was a small comfort, Geoff told himself, although he and Emilie hadn't spoken since that day on the Quidditch pitch.

He saw Emilie stand and pick up her books, tucking her hair behind her ear as she made her way across the Great Hall. As she passed the Gryffindor table, her eyes scanned down the line of Marauders, lingering on Geoff for a moment as they had every day for the past three weeks, but as usual, neither she nor Geoff made a move to speak to the other, though Geoff kept watching her until she'd left the hall. He wondered if anyone else knew the secret she'd shared with him on the Quidditch pitch; he certainly hadn't told anyone, and from the looks of things, her fellow Slytherins either didn't know, or didn't care.

"You've  _ got _ to try and move on, mate," Sirius said beside him.

"Believe me, I'd like to," Geoff sighed, glancing down at his watch and immediately started to gather his things. "Would you look at that? Time for history of magic. Better get going..."

"You are the only person I know that actually cares about showing up to that class on time," Sirius said. "Even  _ Binns _ doesn't show up half the time."

"Yeah, but Emilie shows up all the time," James muttered beside him.

"Let her go, mate!" Sirius called after Geoff. "She's not worth it!"

Geoff ignored him, making his way out into the corridor. It was true that Emilie was one of the few other students who regularly showed up to their N.E.W.T.-level history of magic class (indeed, one of the few other students who had actually signed up for N.E.W.T.-level history of magic), but more importantly, the nearly empty class allowed him time to himself. Between classes, nightly patrols, and reconnaissance missions, he barely had time to get a good night's sleep -- the nightmares didn't help in that regard, either -- let alone clear his head. History of magic allowed him a moment to catch his breath and, occasionally, a quick nap.

Arriving in the classroom, he saw Emilie already sitting in her typical seat -- front row, far right -- scribbling something onto a long roll of parchment. He slid into his usual seat -- back row, far left -- and pulled out his own roll of parchment. Following his meeting with Dumbledore, he had hastily written a response to Claire's letters, and the two had kept up a steady correspondence in the weeks since, Geoff writing most of his letters during history of magic. The letters he and Claire wrote to each other were filled with small talk. Initially this had been a nice reprieve from Sirius and James's constant talk of the war, and Geoff had liked to think his letters to Claire had provided her some comfort in the wake of her husband's disappearance and murder, but lately he found himself craving more news about the war from beyond the walls of Hogwarts. But Dumbledore had warned him away from including too many details or questions about the ongoing war, and so his letters remained free of any mention of reconnaissance missions, the Order, or Death Eaters.

Professor Binns drifted in through the blackboard like he always did, and began his lecture, either not noticing or not caring that of the twelve students taking the class, only half had decided to show up for the day, and of those six, two had already drifted off to sleep. But not Emilie.

She never slept in class. She was constantly scribbling notes on her roll of parchment, but rarely looked up at the board. Geoff wondered if, like him, she used history of magic as a reprieve from everything else. He imagined Snape and Lovell and Rosier to be like the Marauders, constantly talking about the war, preparing, planning, plotting. He didn't envy her; the Marauders talked about the war ad nauseam, but at least they included Geoff in their discussions. At least Geoff was invested in what they were doing. From what he could see, Emilie drifted on the fringes of her group these days, and seemed fairly indifferent to the rest of the Slytherins -- or was that just wishful thinking?

_ Ignoring the fact that Emilie Delacroix is a Death Eater is stupid. _

He glanced up at her at the front of the room, scribbling away on her parchment. He had seen her Dark Mark. She was undeniably one of them.

He had tried to convince himself it wasn't true, that he hadn't seen a skull and snake branded on her arm. She'd tried to talk to him that week after he first saw her Mark, and he'd pushed her away. He had tried to distance himself. She'd left him alone. And then, that day on the Quidditch pitch,  _ I'm late _ . It had been nearly a month since then, and they hadn't spoken again. He'd wanted to, but hadn't been able to find the words. What do you say to the girl you accidentally knocked up? How were you supposed to have a family when you were fighting on opposite sides of a war? He wondered if she'd told her family. He guessed not -- the news that the heiress of the Delacroix family was carrying the bastard child of a blood traitor would surely not go over well.

Another thought nagged at him -- what if she was lying? It certainly wouldn't have been the first time. It was this notion that pushed him away. And yet, he wanted to believe her. He wanted to fix things.

_ The fact is, she's a Death Eater. _

A bell rang somewhere, but it wasn't until the other history of magic students awoke from their stupors and began packing up their materials that Geoff realized class had ended. By the time he began gathering his belongings, Emilie had stood and turned to walk to the back of the class and out the door into the hallway. Their eyes met briefly, but she continued onward without speaking to him, just as she did every day. This was ridiculous, he thought as he stuffed his parchment and quill into his bag. He was supposed to be a Gryffindor, courageous and daring, but couldn't work up the nerve to talk to a girl. One of these days, he would, he promised himself. But not today.

_ I don't understand why you had to pick her, but... I understand that love makes you crazy. _

Crazy, indeed.

* * *

Kurt Lovell was not having a good day. 

Halfway through Charms he had felt a searing pain in his arm and bitten his tongue so sharply that it bled to keep from crying out. Sitting next to Mariah meant sitting next to Lily Evans, and he could not let either of them realize something was amiss. He had suffered in silence for a few minutes before excusing himself quickly from class and heading off toward the Entrance Hall, where he had made a beeline out onto the lawn towards the Forest. 

His arm throbbed as he had broken into a run once safely within the trees, hurrying to the border of the Hogwarts grounds. The minute Hogsmeade station came into view, he Disapparated. 

He landed sprawled on a cold stone floor, breathing hard. 

"So nice of you to join us, Lovell," said a high cold voice, piercing the still air like a spear.

"My lord," said Kurt, looking up at the snakelike face that had spoken. "You summoned me."

"I did," said the Dark Lord. "You haven't checked in in quite a while, Lovell. I was beginning to get concerned."

Kurt got to his feet, quickly making note of the six Death Eaters to either side of Voldemort. "It has been hard to get away, Dumbledore's eyes are on me now since he's modified the Jaeger girl's memory."

"Honestly, Lovell, your plans of late have been a disappointment," said Voldemort. "You've been giving this Mudblood too much agency, I don't see the point of it. And you made it seem like you had some sort of plan by releasing her father back to her, but the more I think about it, the more I grow tired of thinking about it. Kill them and be done with it."

"My lord, I have an informant in the Order of the Phoenix. He tells me Jaeger will be sent home soon to see her father. I placed her father under the Imperius Curse before I released him. Rather than incriminate myself under Dumbledore's nose, I thought I would let her father take the credit," said Kurt quickly. 

"Interesting," said Voldemort. 

"But, my Lord, I think it is worth reconsidering killing Jaeger. If she gets back in Dumbledore's good graces, she could provide valuable information about his movements," said Kurt.

"Ah yes. But you see, Dumbledore is not going to let Jaeger back in the Order anytime soon. And as you've said, you already have an informant, so I don't see the point." Voldemort's fingers traced his wand. 

"But my Lord--"

"I admire your cunning, Lovell, but need I remind you who is in charge here?"

Kurt's eyes widened. 

"No, my Lord, of course not." 

"I think a reminder would serve you well."

"My Lord--"

" _ Crucio _ !"

Kurt cried out, convulsing on the floor as pain racked his body. He was suspended in agony, able to think of nothing else, to feel nothing else, until, at long last, it ended. 

"Do not question me again, Lovell," said Voldemort coldly. Kurt shook violently, flexing his hands against the tremors. His nails had cut into his skin, and his palms were bleeding. 

"Yes, m-m-my Lord," he said, stuttering. Voldemort sighed, straightening his robe as Kurt staggered to his feet. 

"Kill the Mudblood. However you like, but do it soon."

"Yes my Lord," said Kurt, his voice stronger now. 

"Leave us," said Voldemort. Kurt bowed once, and Disapparated. He reappeared at Hogsmeade station, and calmly made his way back towards the castle, past the gates topped with winged boars. He entered the Forest to avoid wandering eyes, and it was there that he let the full impact of what he just experienced wash over him.

He emerged from the Forest a few minutes later and reached the castle just as the bell rang. When he reached the Charms classroom, he found Mariah waiting outside the door with his bag. 

"Hey, are you alright? Where'd you run off to?" she asked, as he took it from her.

"Hospital Wing," said Kurt. "Was feeling suddenly unwell. Madam Pomfrey gave me just the thing, I feel much better now."

"Oh, well. Glad to hear it. Come on, we're running late to Transfiguration."

"Mariah," said Kurt. Mariah stopped, looking at him.

"What?"

Kurt kissed her on the forehead, and she grinned. "What was that for?" 

"Never you mind," said Kurt, smiling.


	21. Mansfield and Delacroix Are What

On Wednesday, Emilie's morning copy of the _Daily Prophet_ narrowly missed her goblet of pumpkin juice, landing neatly between a platter of eggs and her own plate, which was heaped with sausages and bacon. Her horned owl landed nearby, offered her the letter clamped in its beak, and accepted a piece of bacon before beginning the short flight back to the owlery. Emilie set aside the _Prophet_ and ripped open the envelope she had taken from the owl.

_Professor Horace J. Slughorn  
_ _cordially invites you to attend his twelfth annual  
_ _Good Friday Gala and Easter Eggstravaganza  
_ _on the Twenty-Fourth of March at Eight O'Clock in the Evening  
_ _in the Fifth Floor Banquet Hall._

  _Please note that anyone choosing to bring Exploding Eggs  
_ _will be asked to leave the event._

  _RSVP - Horace J. Slughorn  
_ _Potions Dungeon, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
_   _Regrets Only._

  _Present this invitation at the door.  
_ _Good for admission of One Club Member and One Guest._

She could hear Rosier chomping on a piece of toast beside her ear as he read the invitation over her shoulder. "Slug Club party, huh?" he asked, spraying crumbs across the table. Emilie glowered at him as she used a spoon to scoop a fragment of crust out of her pumpkin juice. "You going to ask Manic Mansfield again? Or are your irreconcilable differences... irreconcilable?"

She turned back to her breakfast and jabbed her fork into a piece of sausage. "None of your business."

Rosier could hardly contain his glee. "Going alone, then?"

"At least I'll be going," she snapped, letting the fork clatter to the table and gathering up her belongings. She didn't bother waiting to see Rosier's delighted grin fall to a scowl, sweeping away from the Slytherin table and towards the exit of the Great Hall.

As always, her eyes drifted to the Gryffindor table as she passed, but the two spots between James and Remus were empty. She pressed her lips into a thin line, turned her eyes back to an indistinct spot on the wall, and continued her trek out of the Great Hall, head held high.

* * *

"You _can't_ be serious," Sirius said.

"Sirius, I'm serious."

Sirius made an indistinct despairing noise and covered his face with his hands, turning away from Geoff. "I can't believe this is even up for discussion. No," he removed his hands from his face, clutching at his dark hair as he turned back to Geoff. They were standing in the entrance hall beside the great glass hourglasses encasing the House points, just outside the heavy wooden doors of the Great Hall. "It's _not_ up for discussion, because it's _not_ happening. You are _not_ \--" he broke off abruptly and his head swiveled to the right as the doors to the Great Hall opened and Emilie strode out of them. She kept walking without glancing their way, heading toward the corridor that led to the dungeons. "You are _not_ ," he went on, lowering his voice, "inviting Emilie Delacroix to the Slug Club party. I forbid it."

"Shove off, mate," Geoff said, trying to push Sirius aside, but the dark-haired Gryffindor stood his ground and shoved Geoff back between the hourglasses as Emilie disappeared through a door on the other side of the hall.

"No, _you_ shove off. I'm trying to do you a favor. Listen, the Delacroix family is bad news. Trust me, you don't want to get mixed up in all that."

Geoff frowned and pushed Sirius away. "Look, I'm already mixed up in it, so just--"

"What do you mean, you're already mixed up in it?" Sirius asked, falling back a step and narrowing his eyes at Geoff. "What aren't you telling me?" A fraction of a second later, he had seized Geoff's left forearm and yanked back his sleeve.

"Fuck _off_ , Sirius," Geoff said, shaking his arm free of Sirius's grip. "D'you honestly -- _honestly_ \-- think I'd become one of them after everything they've done to my family? Don't be thick."

"What the hell else was I supposed to think, you're 'already mixed up in it'? Don't tell me you and Delacroix are secretly back together."

"We _aren't_ ," Geoff said, stooping slightly to pick his bag up off the floor, "not that it's any of your goddamn business. Get out of my way, I've got to get to class."

Sirius allowed himself to be shouldered out of the way and turned to watch the lanky Gryffindor make his way up the staircase toward the charms corridor with narrowed eyes. Geoffrey Mansfield was hiding something, and Sirius Black was going to find out what.

* * *

"Geoffrey Mansfield is hiding something," Sirius announced, dropping himself onto a pouf between Peter and Lily.

The divination tower was dark, the luminous crystal balls on the rickety tables the only sources of light in the room.

"Hiding something," Lily repeated flatly. Her tone was one of distinct disinterest as she squinted at the swirling mist inside their crystal, but Peter's eyebrows were raised.

"Yeah," Sirius said, digging through his bag. "And I'm going to figure out what it is. Unless, of course, the two of you'd like to help?"

Lily ignored the question, jotting down notes onto a roll of parchment without comment, but Peter took the bait.

"The two of us?" he asked. "Prongs and Moony aren't in?"

"Nah, they say I need to give it a rest. Not my fault I have a heart of gold and have genuine concern for the wellbeing of my friends."

"Mr. Black, are you quite sure you're enrolled in this course?" Professor Telemus had appeared suddenly behind the three of them and was peering disdainfully down her beaky nose at Sirius, frowning. "I don't recall you having been here the past three years."

Sirius affected a sudden dramatic flair, feigning a swoon. "A dream came to me, professor! A rat spoke to me and shouted about the sacred art of divination! Is that not a sign I should return to your... mystic tutelage?"

"Had you paid more attention to my lectures in your short tenure here, Mr. Black, you would remember that rats are a sign of _unworthiness_ and shouting indicates regret from past mistakes," the professor said, shooing Sirius from his pouf and leading him imperiously to the trapdoor that led out of the tower. "Perhaps you regret that the Sight is not among your numerous talents. Now I must ask you to allow my students to return to their work."

Sirius allowed himself to be ushered down the ladder, shooting one last, meaningful look at Peter and Lily before Professor Telemus shut the trapdoor above him.

* * *

"Mansfield and Delacroix are _what_?" gawked Sirius.

"They're not going to Slughorn's party together," murmured Peter. "I heard him talking to Wendy Slinkhard after--"

"Like hell he's going with Wendy Slinkhard!" scoffed Sirius.

"Mr. Black, I'm afraid that's five points from Gryffindor for swearing in class," said Professor Flitwick.

"I can't believe it," Sirius muttered, turning back to the roll of parchment spread across the desk. "Even Mansfield has better taste than _Wendy Slinkhard_ , and he was snogging a _Death Eater._ "

"I can hear you," Geoff said pointedly from the row behind.

"D'you think it's a ruse?" Sirius went on, ignoring Geoff. "Like, he _says_ he's going with Slinkhard but he's _actually_ going with Delacroix?" He scratched at his chin as he considered, then glanced at James. "What do you say, Prongs, up for gatecrashing? Keep an eye on things?"

"Sorry, Pads, going with Lily..."

Sirius groaned loudly, garnering another disapproving look from Flitwick. "Wormtail? Gatecrashing?"

Peter quickly busied himself with his essay and mumbled, "Dorcas Meadowes is taking me."

" _Fuck_ , does _everyone_ have a date!?"

"Mr. Black, that's quite enough," Flitwick said from atop his stack of books at the front of the room. "I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave class, and take another five points!"

Sirius grumbled and collected his things, muttering something about every man for himself, slinging his bag over his shoulder and exiting the room.


	22. Jaeger and Lovell Are What

"Mansfield and Delacroix are  _ what _ ?" gaped Kurt.

"They're not going to Slughorn's party together," murmured Peter. "I heard him talking to Wendy Slinkhard after--"

" _ Wendy Slinkhard? _ " scoffed Kurt. He looked around at where Snape sat studying on an avocado-green chaise. "I can't believe it," he muttered, pacing the room. "I mean… I thought even  _ Mansfield _ would have better taste."

"I can hear you," Emilie said pointedly from a sage couch behind him.

"Good, then hear this. You realize now with Mariah gone and your little telenovela we've lost all windows into the Order's activity," he said sharply, "and with the Dark Lord already impatient with our recent setbacks we need all the information we can get to please him."

Peter shuffled his feet, a little miffed that he wasn't window enough for Kurt.

"Whatever, Kurt, don't put your failures on me," said Emilie, getting up to leave.

"Get your shit together, Delacroix."

"You seem particularly tense today, Kurt. Could it be that your short-lived glory from being Mariah's savior has come crashing down around you?" drawled Snape, looking up from his parchment where he was listing symptoms of a badly-brewed Chelidonium Miniscula potion.

"Everything's under control," said Kurt sharply, glaring at Snape. Snape stoppered his ink and began rolling up his parchment.

"Really? That's not what I hear."

"Then you should get your hearing checked," said Kurt.

"You know, if you think about it, your plans have never really worked, have they?" mused Snape, putting away his homework. " _ Hellion Hexes _ , that was a bust. Your plan to extort Jaeger and Mansfield. If you'll recall, it wasn't even your idea to recruit Pettigrew here, that was all my doing."

"Are you going to enlighten me as to what you're really talking about or just keep teasing around the issue?" asked Kurt. 

"Get out," said Snape, glaring sharply at Peter, who scampered for the entrance to the common room without argument. Once they were alone, Snape continued. "The Dark Lord has given me an assignment. If you are unable to dispose of Jaeger within the week, that particular responsibility will pass on to myself. And you will be left with the consequences of failing to follow orders." He smiled. "But of course, that's not going to be a problem for you is it?"

"As a matter of fact, it's not," said Kurt, crossing his arms. "I plan on taking care of that particular assignment very soon."

"I look forward to it," said Snape. 

Kurt was about to retort when the entrance to the common room opened again and Mariah entered. Still smirking, Snape stood from the chaise and swept past her with one last glance at Kurt, turning out into the hallway.

"Hi," said Mariah, dropping her books onto a chair and walking to kiss Kurt. He met her lips somewhat distractedly, but smiled when she raised an eyebrow. 

"All packed?" he asked. 

"Yeah, they've already taken my bags down. It's an overnight train, so I leave just after my detention," said Mariah. 

"Last one?" asked Kurt. Mariah nodded.

"I thought we could say goodbye properly now."

"Oh," said Kurt as Mariah snaked one hand across his shoulder and the other around his waist. 

"I'm thinking we'd better move to your room, lest we scar the first years," she whispered. Kurt smiled briefly, and Mariah grinned as he took her hand and led her down the hall to the 7th year boys dormitory. 

"How come boys can't go up to the girls' dormitories but girls can go to the boys'?" mused Mariah, kissing Kurt's neck. "You'd think they'd know the students would be up to no good either way."

"I suppose they just think girls are more trustworthy," said Kurt. 

"Even Dumbledore in all his wisdom hasn't pegged girls as equally untrustworthy? I mean… it's the '70s. We can be naughty, too. What is it?" Mariah broke off as Kurt shrugged her away.

"Nothing," said Kurt. He paused. "When was the last time you talked to Dumbledore?" 

"Uh… pshhh… you know, I don't know. Might have been just in the hallway or something," said Mariah. "I mean, how often do any of us talk to Dumbledore, really?"

"Right," said Kurt absently. Mariah began kissing her way down his shoulder, but he flinched as her hand touched his forearm. 

"What? Oh… I always forget you have a tattoo, sorry," said Mariah as Kurt moved his hand away. "When did you get that again?"

"Christmas," said Kurt shortly.

"Right… it's still sore?" 

"You know, Mariah, I have a lot of work to do," said Kurt. Mariah stared at him.

"You realize we haven't had sex in weeks," she said. "Come on, Kurt, we're all busy, but you can still make time for a little fun."

"I'm not feeling it. Sorry," said Kurt, running a hand through his hair. He reached for his shirt, which was draped over the edge of his mattress. Mariah stared at him, then got to her feet.

"Fine, I'll just go back to my dorm then."

"Alright."

"FINE!"

Mariah snatched her bag from the kelly green chair she'd left it in in the Slytherin common room and marched back up to Gryffindor tower, only realizing she'd left her bra unsnapped when she reached the portrait hole. She clamped her elbows to her side to keep it from sliding off as she stepped inside, seeing Lily on one of the squashy armchairs around the fireplace.

"Cover me, will you? I'm having a wardrobe malfunction," said Mariah, sitting beside her. Lily leaned forward to block her from view from the rest of the common room while Mariah reached inside her robes and pulled her shirt up to hook her bra once again. 

"Thought you were seeing Kurt," said Lily.

"I was, but he's being such a prick lately," said Mariah. "He's just so out of it, I don't know. I feel like he used to be more present, you know? He's just pissed off all the time now, it's like he's not interested anymore."

"Oh..." Lily paused. "That must be hard."

"Yeah," Mariah stared at the fire. "If he keeps this up I don't know if I'll even want to go to Slughorn's party with him. He hasn't even asked me yet, though, so..." Mariah shrugged dramatically, lying back in the chair. 

"Are you going to break up with him?" asked Lily after a moment. Mariah shrugged again, smaller this time. 

"You heading to dinner soon?" she asked. 

"Oh… I… I have some homework to do for a while, might skip dinner, sorry," said Lily. 

"Okay," said Mariah, a bit hesitant. "I guess I'll see you when I get back then."

"Have a good trip!" Lily called after her as she exited the portrait hole, making her way down to the Great Hall. 

Mariah ate alone. She ate alone more often these days. Lily seemed busier than ever with homework and James. She never even made it to bed most nights, and then she would sleep all afternoon to make up the difference. She didn't see much of the boys, either. They seemed transported somehow, though still happy whenever she saw them together. 

_ Must be those N.E.W.T.'s, _ Mariah reasoned, though she couldn't help feeling a little hurt. 

Dinner was almost over when she saw them. They took an open area at the end of the Gryffindor table and ate quickly, talking only a little in hushed voices. Mariah stared at her plate, but she wasn't hungry anymore. It was almost time for detention.

She got to her feet and walked out of the Great Hall. As she passed the end of the table she heard Sirius talking.

"Well, that's my cue. Off to the dungeons."

"Rough luck, mate, see you later tonight for you-know-what!" said James.

Mariah wondered what you-know-what might be, but then realized that if it was James Potter and Sirius Black doing the you-know-what, it could have been anything.

She made her way across the Entrance Hall, Sirius's footsteps echoing behind her. She wondered if he would try to talk to her, but for the past week they hadn't exchanged so much as a word during their detentions. She had tried to initiate conversation their first day, but Filch had walked back inside yelling about the difference between social hour and punishment. 

Filch was there when they reached the potions classroom, mops, rags, and buckets at the ready, as well as the scowl that distended his face like gravity. 

"Finish the job, then. I've got some business to attend to, but I'll be back," he spat, shoving a mop into Sirius's hands as he exited the classroom. Sirius handed it off to Mariah without a word, took a rag and bucket, and walked to the furthest corner of the potions classroom to scrub.

Mariah set up on the other side, working quietly. The weight of the silence between them had eased after a little while during their past detentions, but that was probably because Filch's constant complaining had lifted it, but Mariah felt the silence heavily between them now. 

"I'm headed home today," she said, her voice coming out a little hoarser than she'd intended. 

"Cool," said Sirius without turning around. Mariah pursed her lips, mopping a little more. 

"Looks like Slughorn's got another party coming up, too," she said.

"Yep," said Sirius. Mariah paused. 

"Think you're going to go?"

"Nope," said Sirius. 

Mariah stopped talking. She felt heat rising to her cheeks. That never used to happen when she talked to Sirius. Before long Filch returned, and she could let herself be distracted by his ranting again.

It was close to ten when Mariah finally made her way down towards the platform instead. For the first time since arriving at Hogwarts in her first year, she was looking forward to graduation. Everyone was acting strange- Kurt, Sirius, even Lily. Maybe the fall semester had been particularly full of drama, Mariah didn't know, but for some reason it was almost as if nothing was happening at Hogwarts now, as if everyone was a ghost of their former self. Mariah took a book out of her bag and opened it, glancing at her watch. Three hours until her train. She would be glad to go home, at least there she could hope for some normalcy.


	23. No Pressure

Emilie saw the boy approach out of the corner of her eye, but did not deign to halt her quill's progress across her roll of parchment as he stopped beside her table. The library was packed with fifth-years studying for O.W.L.s and seventh-years studying for N.E.W.T.s -- he was probably just another fifth-year trying to find the table his friends had taken over so he could join them. She continued scrawling her summary of the 19th Century Giant Wars, and the boy continued standing beside her without budging. She had the uncomfortable sensation that he was reading each word she wrote, but she was determined to ignore him; he would move on after a moment. But one moment stretched to two, and soon Emilie found herself grinding her teeth, determined to wait the boy out. At length, the boy coughed.

Emilie's quill abruptly stopped scratching on the parchment. Slowly, she turned her eyes upward, frowning deeply.

"Emilie Delacroix," the boy said.

"Regulus Black," she answered. 

Regulus had inherited the same haughty good looks as his brother, but had inherited little of his charm and lacked the effortless flair that accompanied Sirius wherever he went. Whereas the elder Black brother's dark hair and school robes were constantly in a state of deliberate unruliness, Regulus's hair was neatly combed and never touched the collar of his school uniform, which was always neatly pressed and never in disarray. And here he was now, his hands shoved into the pockets of his immaculate robes, his shoes shined, his green and silver tie tied with a perfect windsor knot.

Emilie waited, eyebrows raised, but Regulus didn't seem keen on speaking further. "I'm a little busy," she said finally, gesturing at the parchment on the paper. "N.E.W.T.s and all, so--"

"It's 1812, not 1821," he said, cutting her off. "For your essay. Here." He pulled a hand from his pocket to point out the error on her parchment and waited for her to correct her mistake. "And you've mixed up the Gurgs. Munvag was the Gurg of the eastern encampment, not Flumgar," he added, pointing to another line in her notes.

The Slytherin girl's frown deepened and she set her quill down on the desk rather more forcefully than necessary. "Did you need something?" she asked sharply.

Rather than answering, he shoved his hand back into his pocket and drew out a neatly folded scrap of parchment, thrusting it toward her. "Yes -- here it is," he said.

She gave him a baleful look as she unfolded the note before quickly scanning through its contents. "What's this rubbish?" she asked, offering it back to him.

He didn't take it. "Pros and cons."

"Of?"

"Attending Slughorn's party together."

She narrowed her eyes and watched his face for a long moment to determine if he was joking, but his expression remained objectively stoic. Almost reluctantly, she glanced back down at the parchment. "'Pros,'" she read, "'not attending party alone; evening in pleasant, like-minded company; complimentary pre-party stroll around the lake; defense against unwanted suitors; complimentary post-party foot massage to ease aching dancing feet; no pressure to engage in coitus.'" She glanced up at him at the end of the list, eyebrows raised. She was met with the same deadpan expression. She looked back down at the list. "'Cons: assumed risk of falling head over heels in love with the dashingly handsome heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.'"

A pair of fifth-year Ravenclaw girls a short distance down the table had stopped pretending to study and snickered as Emilie read through the list. A dark look from the Slytherin girl sent them both ducking back behind their textbooks.

"Reg -- no," Emilie said, sighing as she refolded the list turned back to the Slytherin boy. "Sorry, but my answer's no."

He seemed unperturbed. "You're going to give Rosier the satisfaction of showing up without a date?" he asked.

"What's between me and Rosier is none of your business," she said, picking up her quill and turning back to her essay. "And anyway, I never said I was going."

"Why not? You want to. No, no,  _ Munvag, _ not Munvark," he added, jabbing a finger at her parchment again. "M-u-n-v-a-g."

"Like I said, Regulus, the answer is no," she said, throwing her quill into her bag, stuffing the roll of parchment and Regulus's note in along with it as she stood. "And I've just remembered I've got somewhere to be, so if you'll excuse me--"

"Heading down to the pitch to watch the match?" he asked. "Hufflepuff's got a decent Seeker, but I bet Gryffindor can still outscore...."

Regulus's voice trailed off behind her as she brushed past him and made her way out of the library as quickly as she could without eliciting a disapproving look from Madam Pince. Once in the corridor, she quickly ducked into a hidden passageway behind the nearest tapestry to avoid Regulus, in case he'd decided to follow her out of the library. Once she had emerged out the other end of the passage and was sure she was well on the other end of the castle, she found a secluded alcove and seated herself on a bench beside a statue of the druidess Cliodne. She folded her arms across her middle and leaned forward, waiting on a wave of nausea to pass. Her morning sickness had been getting steadily worse the past several weeks, enough so that she'd had to excuse herself from class more than once to vomit. The past few days had been blessedly free of nausea, and she had hoped that perhaps her days of running to the toilet were gone, but it seemed that would not be the case.

Once her nausea had passed -- thankfully, free of any actual vomiting this time -- she straightened in her seat and leaned back against the cool stone wall of the castle. Regulus had hit the nail on the head when he'd said she wanted to go to the party... but then, who  _ didn't _ want to go? Regulus's own brother had schemed his way into (and subsequently been thrown out of) nearly every Slug Club party since their fourth year, James Potter right alongside him.

Emilie's stomach did a backflip that had nothing to do with her morning sickness.

Regulus's brother. Sirius Black, the black sheep of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Judging from the way he'd been scowling and skulking more than usual, he was the last of their little gang to have found a date to the party. She needed a date simply to show up Rosier; what did she care if her date liked her or not? It would take more than a little convincing to get Sirius onboard with her plan, but with any luck, he still wouldn't have a date and would still be desperate to go to the party, and that would be enough. And if it weren't, the added bonus of pissing off a score of Slytherins, chief among them his own brother, would hopefully be enough to sweeten the deal.

She checked her watch. The match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff would be in full-swing by now, with Sirius no doubt wedged in the center of the Gryffindor stands. She picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder, making her way toward the Entrance Hall, planning to intercept Sirius on his way back up to Gryffindor tower after the match.

* * * 

Sirius gaped at the girl standing in front of him. Emilie Delacroix had grabbed him by the sleeve of his robes and forcibly yanked him behind a tapestry concealing a hidden passageway -- a ploy he and Marlene McKinnon had often used when they were going steady in fifth year to get in a bit of snogging between classes -- but snogging was the last thing on his mind today. 

"You don't need to look so surprised," Emilie said, folding her arms across her chest and scowling.

Sirius shut his mouth, his expression shifting abruptly from one of surprise to one of suspicion as he folded his own arms across his chest and narrowed his eyes, mimicking her scowl. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing, Delacroix," he said, "but let me tell you--"

"Look, do you want to go to Slughorn's party or not?" she asked, cutting him off with a short wave of her hand. She reached into her bag and pulled out a scrap of parchment, thrusting it at him. "Here," she said. "Read this."

"What's this rubbish?" he asked, eying it skeptically as he accepted it and unfolded it.

"Pros and cons of going to the Slug Club party with me."

He let his eyes slide from her face back down to the parchment in his hand. "'Pros: not attending party alone; evening in pleasant, like-minded company' -- doubt that one -- 'complimentary pre-party stroll around the lake; defense against unwanted suitors' -- yeah, that's a real problem of mine, all those unwanted suitors -- 'complimentary post-party foot massage to ease aching dancing feet; no pressure to engage in coitus' -- don't flatter yourself -- 'Cons: assumed risk of falling head over heels in love with the dashingly handsome heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.'" He crumpled up the parchment and tossed it away over his shoulder. "No," he said flatly. "Absolutely not. One," he went on, raising a finger, "I will not be seen anywhere with the likes of  _ you _ , and two--" a second finger joined the first "--as misguided as your attempts to win Mansfield back are, I refuse to participate in any of your schemes to get back together with him."

"This has nothing to do with Mansfield."

"It has everything to do with Mansfield. Don't lie. If you think for just one second--"

"It's not Mansfield," she interrupted. "It's Rosier."

Sirius deflated a bit. "Rosier?"

"Rosier," she said. "He thinks I can't get a date."

The Gryffindor considered her for a moment. "Mansfield already turned you down, did he?"

"Geoff wouldn't go even if I asked," she answered, and sounded a bit deflated herself. "He's hardly looked at me since -- well, in a while, as I'm sure you've noticed."

Sirius weighed his options. Gate-crash the party, risk getting thrown out; find another date, but the remaining options were slim; go with Emilie Delacroix, risk ruining his friendship with Geoffrey Mansfield, but piss off a score of Slytherins and alleged Death Eaters in the process...

"Not worried your pals will think you've become a traitor to their noble cause?" he asked, eying her with no small amount of suspicion. "I seem to recall an incident last term that involved you, Rosier's gang, Geoff, and a Beater's club. And since it's not likely Sir Mansfield will come dashing to your rescue if things go south this time...."

"Listen, I just need you to show up with me and hang around long enough that Rosier notices. That's it. Afterward I tell them I was trying to get information out of you but you caught on too quickly and split before I got anything relevant. They don't think I'm a traitor, and they don't think you know anything important."

He considered for a long moment. "We show up together," he said at last, holding out a hand for her to shake. "We get a cup of punch. We're done. Deal?"

"Deal," she answered, grasping his hand and shaking it.

* * *

By the time Sirius reached the common room, the Gryffindors' victory party was already in full swing. No sooner had he climbed out of the portrait hole than someone thrust a half-empty bottle of Ogden's Old into his hands. He didn't think twice before yanking the stopper from the bottle and taking a deep swig, relishing the burning sensation of the firewhiskey sliding down his throat.

"Where've you been, Padfoot?" James shouted over the noise. "Party started without you!"

"You wouldn't believe me, mate," he answered, throwing back another gulp of liquor. He grimaced; the second swallow burned more than the first. "I think I might've really fucked up this time."

"More than that time you almost poisoned yourself trying to brew... what was it again?"

"...not that bad," Sirius admitted. "I'm still breathing this time."

James laughed a little too loudly, slopped some of his butterbeer down the side of his mug, and then allowed himself to be led away to the other side of the common room by his teammates, who hoisted him onto their shoulders and began to sing a loud and bawdy song involving balls, hoops, and Hufflepuffs. It was true, going to the party with Emilie was nowhere near as disastrous as inadvertently poisoning himself -- or at least, not as immediately disastrous -- but James would be too preoccupied with the victory party to listen. Sirius quickly scanned the room and spotted Remus sitting in another corner, playing Sickles with Geoff and made his way over to them.

"Geoff," he said, nodding a greeting at the ginger, who raised his own bottle of firewhiskey in return without smiling. "Moony, a word?" he added, gesturing for the prefect to follow him.

Remus excused himself from their game and followed Sirius to a secluded nook in the common room. He waited patiently for Sirius to glance around and ensure no one was near enough or interested enough to eavesdrop.

Satisfied that there were no unwanted ears listening, Sirius turned back to Remus and took a deep breath. "Geoff's girlfriend asked me to go with her to the Slug Club party," he said quickly.

"Come again?"

"Geoff's girlfriend -- asked me -- to go with her -- to -- the -- Slug Club -- party," he repeated slower.

Remus folded his arms across his chest and raised one hand to his face, considering. "Have you told Geoff?" he asked after a moment.

"This literally happened fifteen minutes ago. What do I do, Moony?"

"Well, of course you said no, so--" Remus broke off abruptly as Sirius took an innocent swig of firewhiskey. "You  _ didn't _ say yes. You  _ can't _ have."

"I didn't so much as say 'yes' as I agreed it would cause friction amongst a common foe."

"So you said yes."

"I said yes," Sirius conceded, hanging his head. "What do I  _ do _ , Moony?"

"For starters, tell Geoff."

"Remus John Lupin, I do not have the words to express to you how much I cannot do that. It would destroy him."

"You should have thought about that fifteen minutes ago when she asked you! You, of  _ all _ people -- going with Emilie? After all the shit you've given Geoff about it?"

"I know! I know! I fucked up! Help me!"

Remus waved Sirius away. "You got yourself into this mess, Padfoot," he said, beginning to walk back toward his game of Sickles. "My advice is tell Geoff before someone else does, but you're on your own with that." 

Sirius frowned and watched Remus rejoin Geoff, then found himself a squashy armchair and settled into it, finishing off the bottle of Ogden's and accepting new drinks from anyone who passed. Within the hour, the tips of his fingers were tingling slightly as he reached for another glass of butterbeer. Instead of grabbing the glass, he hit it with the side of his hand, spilling its contents across the coffee table and onto the rug.

"Sirius, I think you've had enough," Gwenog Jones said from her perch on the side of the armchair. "Maybe you should slow down."

"Nonsense. 'M fine. Don't you know there's a war on, every reason to drink," Sirius said, eying a bottle of wine a few meters away as he reached into his robe for his wand. " _ Accio wine _ ," he said, waving his wand wildly in a clenched fist. The wine bottle remained stationary... until someone picked it up and began carrying it away through the crowd.

Gwenog quickly relieved him of his wand. "You're going to put someone's eye out, Sirius. Lay off the booze and get something to eat."

He scowled and gave her a shove off the arm of the chair, but staggered to his feet all the same, pausing slightly as the room spun around him. "Going to th' kitchens," he said loudly. "Be back with food. Mansfield, c'mere."

He saw Geoff continue to sit motionless, frowning at him, until Remus prompted him to follow Sirius through the portrait hole and out into the darkened corridor. The Fat Lady stirred slightly in her frame and grumbled something incoherently, but quickly settled back into a deep sleep.

They set off down the corridor in as much silence as they could muster, doing their best to avoid tripping over corners of rugs or staggering into suits of armor as they walked. As they continued their trek through the castle, up one corridor and down the next, around a secret spiral staircase and treading extra carefully through an open room that was a favorite haunt of Peeves and Mrs. Norris, Sirius became acutely aware of just how heavy the silence between them was becoming. He had to tell him; Remus was right, he had to do it. But as the memory of their last conversation in the Great Hall between the giant hourglasses holding the House points swam to the forefront of his mind, he felt his resolve failing. The details of the interaction were lost to alcohol, but he had a vague recollection of yelling and insinuating Geoff had gone to the wrong side, and more shouting, and forbidding him from asking Emilie to the party. And now he had to explain that in lieu of Geoff, he, Sirius Orion Black, would be taking Emilie Delacroix to the blood Slug Club party. It was now or never. "Listen, Mansfield, I've got some stuff t' say."

"Don't wanna hear it."

"You're gonna hear it," Sirius said, grabbing Geoff roughly by the shoulder and forcing him to turn, backing him against a wall. "So help me God, if I've gotta say it, you're gonna hear it."

"Say it, then," Geoff said, pushing Sirius away.

Sirius opened his mouth to tell Geoff everything; to apologize for being an absolute cunt, to apologize for all the shit he'd given him about Emilie, to tell him about Emilie's proposition of attending the party together, to tell him how he'd agreed to go with her, to apologize for not telling him sooner, to apologize for saying yes at all -- but his resolve was fading, and panic was rising, and the words wouldn't come.

And suddenly, the lanky ginger found himself once again backed against the wall, this time with Sirius's lips pressed to his own, the shorter, dark-haired boy reeking of alcohol tasting faintly of cinnamon and whiskey and wine. Geoff shoved Sirius away again, coughing and spluttering. "What the bloody hell was that, Sirius?" the redhead demanded.

"S-sorry," Sirius said, not meeting Geoff's eyes as he glanced around the entrance hall for an out... "Would you look at that! If it isn't Wendy Slinkhard!" he said, a little more loudly than necessary, gesturing wildly toward the corridor to the kitchens.

Geoff turned to see a very pink-faced Wendy creeping out of the corridor and into the entrance hall, taking a hesitant step toward the boys. "We were --  _ hic _ \-- in the kitchens drinking sherry and heard raised --  _ hic -- _ voices," she said. "You really ought not be --  _ hic _ \-- shouting..."

"Kitchens, you say? What a coincidence, that's where we were headed." Sirius grabbed Geoff by the elbow and shoved him toward Wendy. "Why don't you kids go on ahead, and I'll meet you back in the common room, Mansfield. Make sure you get some of those good treacle tarts when you come back up. Go on, now."

Just as Geoff disappeared down the corridor to the kitchens with Wendy, he threw another befuddled look over his shoulder at Sirius, who mouthed the word  _ sorry _ and gave an apologetic wave. Once the two of them had vanished from sight, Sirius immediately turned to make his way back to the common room. So much for the courage and chivalry of Gryffindor.


	24. So Happy Together

Mariah's dad was smiling all the way to his bandaged ears waiting for her out front at King's Cross Station. He was leaning on a cane next to a less than enthusiastic Devon, who was sporting a look of the opposite direction that told Mariah that he was nowhere near over what had happened at Christmas. Mariah was still a bit shaken herself. Her father had been attacked by burglars while her brother had been at a friend's. Devon was a grouch on a regular basis, but Mariah could tell that her presence seemed to have driven him into a darker mood. She wondered for a moment why he had come at all, but stopped wondering as he turned away from their joyful reunion and made a beeline for the driver's side door of their small sedan.

"The doctors say I'll be fit to drive in a week or so. The Muggle doctors, that is. I had a visit from a few Mediwizards who fixed me up right quick, but it's all hush-hush for the Muggles, you know," said Mariah's dad, passing his cane back to her from the front seat. "The cane is only a precaution, but they said I fractured my ankle. I do wish I could have stayed in St. Mungo's instead of a Muggle hospital though. I was drilling those Mediwizards something awful, but of course they don't want to let on too much information to Muggle doctors. Shame though. I was learning so much. It's a wonder what magical medicine can achieve..."

Devon pulled the car out into the street a bit faster than necessary. 

They grabbed a takeaway pizza for dinner. Devon had been staying in the house alone, but he had subsided primarily on frozen dinners and takeout it seemed. Devon took two slices to his room and marched upstairs, locking himself away in his room, leaving Mariah alone with her father. 

"Don't blame yourself, Mari," said her father, putting a full kettle on the stove. "He'd be doing this even if Christmas had gone like normal. He's at that age where he has to be contrary about everything."

"Right," said Mariah, not very convinced. "I wish I'd been home, though, I might have been able to do something."

"Now, now, none of that. I'm actually glad you weren't home. Knowing you're safe is my number one priority as a parent, Mari, I don't need you fighting." Mariah shrugged, but frowned. Why had she stayed at school again? Oh, that was right, she was so behind in classes she had spent Christmas studying. 

"Did they take anything?" she asked. 

"No, must've been scared off once they saw me bleeding on the floor. Maybe a neighbor heard something and raised an alarm. Anyway, everything's accounted for," said Mariah's dad.

"That's good," said Mariah, feeling no more comforted.

They lapsed into silence as they ate. Afterwards, Mariah helped her father lug the trash that had accumulated under Devon's care out to the curb, and then headed upstairs to shower. She paused outside of Devon's room and knocked. 

"Fuck off," said Devon after her third attempt at knocking.

"Just give me a minute, will you?" 

The door opened. 

"You have fifty-five seconds," said Devon, tapping his watch. Mariah frowned.

"Okay, why are you being such a cunt?" 

"Don't you pull that innocent act with me. I dunno what your lot has done to dad's head to make him forget, but I'm not about to forgive you no matter how hard you want to pretend Christmas didn't happen," Devon snapped. 

"I don't know what you're talking about, Devon, but if you're going to be an asshole to me, the least you could do is lighten up for Dad," said Mariah. 

"Still playing it all high and mighty? Fine, but don't talk to me again." The door slammed in Mariah's face. 

"That was thirty seconds at best!" she shouted through the door before heading down to her room. She grabbed a towel off the end of her bed and locked herself in the bathroom for a long shower.

The water was too hot, and then too cold, but Mariah flushed the toilet three times and the temperature found a comfortable balance. She stepped inside, running her face under the water.

The dance was one week away, but with Kurt acting so spiky she wasn't even sure she wanted to go. It would be no fun if he was as anxious as he had been lately. And with Lily and James, and the others acting as sketchy as they had been, she wasn't sure they could be trusted to be much fun either. Not to mention Sirius, who was avoiding her like the plague for some reason. She remembered their scheduled detentions together the following week. She remembered dreading his constant monologues and teasing jabs, but wasn't sure she could handle a whole week of evenings doing some menial job for Filch with no talking at all, let alone eye contact. She wasn't sure she wanted to experience Sirius ignoring her existence. 

Something in the bathroom creaked, and Mariah opened her eyes, waiting. No other sound followed. She hesitantly went back to washing her hair. 

What was Devon's problem anyway? Blaming her for a burglary. Of course, he was used to blaming her for everything anyway. She shrugged. It seemed pretty normal. But something was bothering her. Something he said.  _ No matter how hard you want to pretend Christmas didn't happen. _

But she wasn't pretending. She hadn't even been there. She had been...

"At school..." she muttered, frowning. Something creaked loudly and she jumped.

"Fuck  _ off _ , Devon!" she called through the door. There was no answer. Mariah grabbed the soap and rubbed it over her body, determined to finish showering as quickly as possible now. 

There was suddenly a third creak, louder than before, and the shower curtain buckled in towards her as a figure lunged. Mariah shoved the soap bar where its face should be and heard it howl in pain as she ducked out of the way, letting it hit the tile wall. She slipped on the soapy bathtub floor and fell out onto the bathmat. She crawled over the tile, grabbing onto the sink to keep from slipping, and ran out of the open door into the hallway back to her room. 

"My wand, my wand, my  _ wand _ ," she said agitatedly, jerking left and right, searching. She spotted it on the nightstand and dove for it just as her bedroom door burst open. Mariah turned and sent a stunning spell back at the figure. It missed, chipping the wall paint. Mariah suddenly realized who the figure was and snatched her bedsheet around herself. 

"Dad! What are you doing!?" she shrieked. Her father stumbled over the rug, but recovered and launched himself at her like a man who hadn't ever sported a cane, and Mariah felt his hands close around her neck. He was grunting with the effort of pressing his thumbs into her windpipe, but said no words. Mariah struggled to shout a spell, her arm waving her wand weakly, but she couldn't speak. Her father pinned her arm down sharply with an elbow and she cried out a squelched sort of shriek.

"Help!" she wheezed. "Please! Help!"

She kicked her legs violently, knocking over the nightstand. The lamp shattered on the floor. 

" _ Stupefy! _ " she mouthed, her voice too hoarse to make a sound. Her vision was fading. " _ Dad! Please... _ "

"What are you doing!? Get off her! Get  _ off _ her!" 

Mariah felt the pressure leave her throat and the weight lift off her, and she coughed, wheezing. Devon was in the doorway, holding their father in a headlock as he bucked against him, trying to get back at Mariah. 

"What's going on?" asked Devon sharply.

"I don't know!" breathed Mariah, coughing sharply. She quickly tied the bedsheet around herself more securely, extending her wand. 

"Woah, what are you doing?"

"Dad… can you hear me?" asked Mariah hoarsely. "I need you to calm down, do you understand?" 

Mariah's father lurched against Devon's grip, and the teenager nearly lost his grip. Mariah took a step backward. 

"What's wrong with him?" asked Devon in alarm. 

"I don't know, he might have been bewitched or-- NO!" 

Mariah ducked aside as her father broke free of Devon's grip and launched himself towards her. He missed, stumbling into a dresser. He spun on his heel, bleeding from his temple slightly. Mariah was holding her wand out still, but her hands were shaking.

"Dad, please don't! Dad!" 

Mariah's father ran towards her, aiming a kick at her leg that connected with a sickening crack. Mariah screamed in pain and lashed her wand out as she fell. 

" _ Stupefy! _ "

The jet of red light blasted her father across the room where he collided with the wall and slumped to the floor. Mariah propped herself on her forearms, eyes tearing at the pain in her leg. She crawled towards the door.

"Mariah! Are you alright?" asked Devon hysterically.

"NO, my leg is bloody broken--Look out!" 

Their father, bloody, limping, and with what looked like a dislocated shoulder was snarling, scrambling across the bed towards them like an animal. Mariah threw out her wand, to alarmed to name a spell, and a wave of gold sparks hit him squarely in the chest just as he jumped at them and he flew across the room once more, only this time his head connected hard with the windowsill as he fell, and he lay still. 

Devon called the police, while Mariah sat next to their father trying to stop the bleeding from his head, forgetting her broken leg almost entirely. The doorbell rang not long after, and Devon left to answer it. Mariah waited, but it was not Devon who returned. Nor was it the police.

Three purple-clad mediwizards entered the room, setting a few tidying spells to work to fix the damage to the furniture and the stains on the floor as they made their way over to where Mariah sat by her father. 

"What happened here, then?" asked a particularly robust mediwizard.

"My dad attacked me, just went crazy. I shot a stunning spell to hold him off, but he just kept coming back. This one got him particularly hard, and he tripped, and...is he going to be alright?" Mariah felt like she was drastically under-representing the situation, but didn't know what else to say. A mediwizard knelt and fixed her leg as she spoke while the third examined her father. 

"He's barely breathing," she said, turning to the robust mediwizard. "Muggle?" she added to Mariah.

"Yes, him and my brother."

"Ah, the boy at the door," said the robust mediwizard. "Better unfreeze him, and send the Muggle policemen back to their station. Right. Take this man into custody at St. Mungo's. I remember him from a few weeks ago, he'll already have a file." He looked suspiciously at Mariah. "Just attacked you, aye? Your own dad? And a Muggle too. Doesn't seem rational."

"That's what happened, I don't know why, we've never fought before!" exclaimed Mariah, hysteria rising in her voice. Her father groaned weakly, and the mediwizards returned their attention to him.

"Get him out of here," said the robust mediwizard, and the younger took Mariah's father's hand and Disapparated. Just before they disappeared, Mariah could see his fingers twitching slightly, still aching to fit around her throat.

* * *

Mariah's father lay restrained to a bed on the fourth floor of St. Mungo's in the ward for Spell Damage while Mariah and Devon observed him from behind a barrier. 

"You can't remember what spell you used, Miss Jaeger?" asked the attending mediwizard, a greying man with a stony demeanor. 

"No, I didn't have time to think," said Mariah. 

"We have healed most of the physical damage, but your father is still unresponsive, I can only assume from whatever side effects the spell had on him. We have contacted Professor Dumbledore about the events and he has given evidence that this attack was out of character for your father. Indeed he was only here a few weeks ago and we observed nothing out of the ordinary then."

Mariah could feel Devon shaking with anger next to her. 

"Dumbledore has emphasized the need to investigate for dark magical influences, but other than that all we can do is keep him here under observation. In any case, it could be quite a while before he is able to return home."

"Can't you fix him?" asked Devon shortly. The mediwizard blinked at him. 

"We will do everything we can, Mr. Jaeger. I know as a Muggle, it may seem to you that our abilities know no bounds, but magic cannot fix the world. Merlin knows that's especially true these days."

The mediwizard turned and walked down the hall, leaving Devon and Mariah alone. They did not speak for a minute.

"Devon..."

"Don't talk to me. I don't ever want to see or speak to you again," said Devon.

"It will be alright," said Mariah.

"I want you out," said Devon. "I've had enough of your rubbish, putting Dad and me in danger, destroying the house. Don't ever come home, you hear me? If Dad dies, it's my home. And I never want you to set foot in there again."

"Devon..." said Mariah, feeling numb, but her brother had already set off down the stairs and out of sight. 


	25. The Four Champions, October 1994

**October 31, 1994**

Halloween morning found Hogwarts abuzz with excitement over the impending tournament. The Goblet of Fire had been placed in the entrance hall, just as Dumbledore had said, and a gaggle of students were standing around, eying it with interest. Geoff had just pushed his way through the throng with a piece of toast smeared with marmalade when a loud whooping coming down the staircase drew the attention of the entrance hall crowd. The Weasley twins appeared with Lee Jordan at their side, waving empty potion vials above their heads.

One of the twins -- he thought it was Fred, although he was never quite sure -- drew a slip of paper from his pocket and held it aloft for everyone to see. A hush fell over the crowd of students, and Geoff watched with mild amusement as Fred (or was it George?) walked up to the very edge of the golden age line, and then stepped over, the other twin leaping over after him with a flourish and a cry of triumph that whatever scheme they'd concocted had worked.

With a loud sizzle and a pop, both twins were suddenly thrown back over the line, skidded three meters across the floor, and groggily regained their feet, each of them sporting a magnificent silver beard that very nearly put Dumbledore's to shame. The onlookers howled with laughter, no one laughing louder than Lee Jordan, and even the twins joined in once they'd inspected each other's beards.

"I did warn you," said a deep, amused voice, and everyone turned to see Professor Dumbledore coming out of the Great Hall. He surveyed Fred and George, his eyes twinkling. "I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours."

As the Weasley twins headed up the stairs to the hospital wing, Jordan still howling with laughter behind them, Dumbledore left the entrance hall, humming to himself. Geoff took a bite of toast and surveyed the rest of the crowd gathered around the Goblet. He saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione ducking out of the entrance hall to find breakfast, but it was the group of Slytherins standing off to one side of the hall that caught his attention.

His son Joel was seated on the grand staircase beside Draco Malfoy, their usual gang surrounding them, cheering on a hefty seventh year Slytherin boy as he strode purposefully across the room, stepped over the age line, and submitted his name into the Goblet.

"...age line is ridiculous," he heard the Malfoy boy say, his drawling voice carrying easily across the hall as the applause for the Slytherin Quidditch player died down. "If I want to win eternal glory, who's going to stop me?"

Joel muttered something Geoff couldn't hear and gestured at the age line. Crabbe and Goyle guffawed loudly. Pansy Parkinson affected a dramatic swoon and made doe-eyes at Malfoy. Joel pulled a slip of parchment from one robe pocket and his wand from the other. With a swish and flick, the slip of parchment began to levitate, drifting slowly toward the Goblet. Malfoy raised his eyebrows appreciatively at his friend's ingenuity, but Geoff was already making his way across the hallway, snatching the parchment out of the air as he walked past it.

"Joel Michel Mansfield!"

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle snickered. Joel groaned and rolled his eyes, replacing his wand back into the pocket of his robes.

"Did you honestly think levitating this--" Geoff brandished the slip of parchment. "--across the age line would work? These precautions are here  _ for a reason _ . You haven't had enough training to begin to be able to compete as a champion in this tournament, even if you could enter. If your mother were here--"

"Yeah, well, she's not, Dad, so piss off. Come on," he added to the other Slytherins as he stood. "Let's get out of here."

Geoff caught his son's arm as the Slytherin boy moved to brush past him. "If you ever use that tone with me again--"

"You'll what? Give me detention?"

"Refer you to your Head of House. I'm sure Professor Snape has some ideas of how to punish disrespectful students."

Joel scoffed and shook his arm free from his father's grasp, leading the rest of the group out of the entrance hall just as the doors opened and the twelve Beauxbatons students entered, led by their headmistress. One by one, the Beauxbatons students stepped across the line to submit their names, and each time, the blue flames in the Goblet of Fire burned briefly red.

"Sorry, couldn't help but overhear," a soft voice said beside Geoff. "But it sounds like you take these safety precautions very seriously." He turned to see a pretty, dark-haired witch standing beside him, a quill held at the ready above a roll of parchment as she looked at him expectantly. A thought seemed to strike her, and she tutted to herself, swapping the quill to her left hand and holding her right out for him to shake. "But where are my manners?" she asked. "Evaleen Lovell, columnist for  _ Witch Weekly _ ."

Geoff hesitated for a moment, then shook the offered hand. "Lovell, you said?"

"Yes, no doubt you remember me from my work with the  _ Daily Prophet _ . Or perhaps you've met my husband Kurt, head of the security detail for the Tournament."

"We've met, yes," he answered shortly. "Is there something I can help you with?"

She smiled again and readied her quill. "Just trying to get an inside scoop," she said. "Did I hear you call that boy your son? Tell me, as both a parent and professor -- you  _ are _ a teacher here as well, yes? -- how do you feel about Dumbledore's decision to reinstate the Triwizard Tournament, what with the astronomically high death t--"

"Oncle Geoff!"

Geoff was not sorry to be pulled away from the reporter, although being seized by the shoulders and subjected to  _ bises _ from a pretty young Beauxbatons student was not the escape he had planned. He forced a smile as the girl released him, beaming. She was the spitting image of Emilie, with the haughty Delacroix features and slender frame. Geoff had neither seen nor heard from Emilie's family since she had been sent to Azkaban all those years ago, just after their daughter had been born, except for the occasional holiday card around Christmas, usually featuring a photograph of Emilie's brother and his family on some exotic vacation. "Véronique," he said, relieved he could remember the girl's name. "So good to see you. It's been, what, eleven years?"

"Ah, close relations with a rival school!" Evaleen said, scribbling notes madly with her quill. "A conflict of interest? Family on one side, employer on the other?"

"Twelve," the French girl said, ignoring the reporter, much to Geoff's relief, tossing her long dark hair back over her shoulder. "Oncle, 'ave you seen Joel? I 'ave not seen 'im in ages and 'ave been wanting to say 'ello since we arrived.  _ Où est-il _ ?"

"He headed out onto the grounds with his friends just before you came in. Heading down to the Quidditch pitch, most likely. If you go--"

"Ah,  _ merde _ ," the girl said, glancing over her shoulder as her friends shouted at her from the doorway. She turned back to her uncle and giving him a fresh set of  _ bises _ . "I 'ave to return to ze carriage, but I will see you around,  _ non _ ?  _ À plus _ !"

And with that, the girl turned and left as suddenly as she had appeared, jogging across the entrance hall to catch up with her friends and stepping out into the Saturday morning sunlight. Geoff took the girl's exit as an opportunity to excuse himself and quickly dodged around the reporter before she could protest, hurrying up the staircase and out of sight.

* * *

The Halloween feast seemed to take much longer than usual that night. Judging by the constantly craning necks, the impatient expressions on every face, the fidgeting, and the occasional student standing up to see whether Dumbledore had finished eating yet, the students were indifferent to the lavishly prepared meal and were itching to hear who had been selected as champions. Geoff would have been lying to himself if he said he weren't just as interested.

At long last, the golden plates returned to their original spotless state; there was a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the Hall, which died away almost instantly as Dumbledore got to his feet. On either side of him, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked as tense and expectant as anyone. Ludo Bagman was beaming and winking at various students. Mr. Crouch, however, looked quite uninterested, almost bored.

"Well, the Goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber" -- he indicated the door behind the staff table -- "where they will be receiving their first instructions."

He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semidarkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting....

The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it, and the whole room gasped.

Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment as it fluttered downward and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white.

"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."

A storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. Viktor Krum rose from where he'd been sitting at the Slytherin table and slouched up toward Dumbledore; he turned right, walked along the staff table, and disappeared through the door into the next chamber.

"Bravo, Viktor!" boomed Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. "Knew you had it in you!"

The clapping and chatting died down. Now everyone's attention was focused again on the goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"

The girl who so resembled a veela got gracefully to her feet, shook back her sheet of silvery blonde hair, and swept up between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables. Geoff saw Véronique sporting the signature Delacroix scowl at her seat at the table, visibly disappointed. Two of the other girls who had not been selected had dissolved into tears and were sobbing with their heads on their arms.

When Fleur Delacour too had vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so stiff with excitement you could almost taste it. And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment.

"The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is Cedric Diggory!"

Every single Hufflepuff had jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stamping, as Cedric made his way past them, grinning broadly, and headed off toward the chamber behind the teachers' table. Indeed, the applause for Cedric went on so long that it was some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as at last the tumult died down. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real--"

But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him.

The fire in the goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment.

Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out--

"Harry Potter."

* * *

There had been no applause when Harry's name had emerged from the Goblet of Fire -- just an angry buzzing, like a swarm of bees, as ripples of indignation passed through the students. The buzzing had grown louder as Harry had made his way to the front of the Hall, and louder still once he was in the chamber with the other champions, followed first by Ludo Bagman, then by Professor Dumbledore, Mr. Crouch, Kurt Lovell, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape.

Alastor Moody stood from his seat at the staff table and limped his way down the length of it to Geoff. "Mansfield, try to quiet this lot down and herd them back to their dormitories," he muttered, and followed the others into the champions' room.

Geoff sighed and stepped up to the podium where Dumbledore typically delivered his speeches, but his presence did not have the same effect as the headmaster's, and the students continued their angry buzzing. He drew out his wand and touched it to his throat, and shouted for quiet with a magically amplified voice.

The buzzing died down, albeit more slowly than Geoff would have liked, and once silence had fallen, he dispersed the students back to their common rooms, their ship, and their carriage. The angry buzzing gradually resumed as the students filed out of the Great Hall. A few stragglers were drifting toward the door the champions had disappeared through, but Geoff quickly shooed them away and sent them heading to their dormitories.

When the last student had cleared the Hall, Geoff stepped through the great oak doors to ensure there were no stragglers in the entrance hall. Although he found no students, Evaleen Lovell was standing there, evidently waiting for her next big scoop, quill once again poised at the ready above her roll of parchment.

"A fourth champion. How about that?" she said. "And an underage champion at that. So much for Dumbledore's safety precautions -- seems he overlooked a few details."

"Is there a question in there, Mrs. Lovell?"

"Please, call me Evaleen. I was just wondering if you thought perhaps Dumbledore's age was contributing to his lapse in judgment? Perhaps a fresh administration would have refrained from reinstating a tournament with such a historically high death t--"

"Dumbledore is a great man," Geoff said, cutting her off. "And if anyone can sort out this mess with four champions, it's him."

"Can I quote you on that? Geoff, wasn't it?"

"Professor Mansfield," he corrected. "And I'd rather you didn't. Look, if there's nothing else--"

He broke off as the voices of the occupants of the champions' room echoed through the empty Hall, Maxime, Karkaroff, and their two champions leading the group. The rest of the group followed, Kurt Lovell bringing up the rear.

"That'll be all, Professor Mansfield. For tonight," she added, giving him a small smirk and a wink. "I'm sure you have plenty of valuable insight that I'd love to tap into." She tucked her parchment and quill into her bag and hurried across the Hall to her husband, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm.

Cedric Diggory headed for a door to the right of the marble staircase toward the Hufflepuff common room. Harry hesitated for a moment, watching his fellow Hogwarts champion go, then started to climb the marble ones.

"Harry," Geoff called after him, mounting the steps two at a time to catch up. "Can I walk with you?"

"I didn't put my name in," Harry said quickly.

"I believe you," Geoff assured him. "I just thought you'd like some company. Not everyone will believe you didn't put your name in -- your friends especially."

Harry didn't say anything; he'd been worrying about that very thought since his name had emerged from the Goblet. How could Ron and Hermione ever believe him when he told them he hadn't put his name in? But there was still something else. "Moody thinks someone put my name in to try to kill me."

Geoff laughed humorlessly. "Moody always thinks someone's trying to kill him -- that flask he has? It's so no one can poison his drink when he's not looking. I'm sure he's just being paranoid. Besides," he added, glancing sideways at Harry with a sly smile, "I doubt notorious mass-murderer Sirius Black will be coming back to finish you off any time soon."

Harry returned the grin, and Geoff could have sworn that the boy's pace perked up slightly as they continued their trek through the castle. Once they reached the corridor that housed Geoff's office, the professor stopped. "Listen, Harry," he said, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder, "if you need anything at all, you can come to me. I was a friend of your parents', too. We'll all be pulling for you -- me, Remus, Mariah, and Sirius, too. Anything you need."

"Thanks, Professor," Harry said, and turned to continue making his way up the staircase toward Gryffindor tower.

Geoff watched him go. Harry may have been James's son, but even he couldn't be reckless enough to put his own name into the Goblet of Fire. But if he hadn't, who had? Maybe Moody was onto something -- maybe someone  _ was _ trying to kill Harry. But who?


	26. One Cup Monty

"Your plan failed, Lovell."

Kurt looked around, straightening his robes. 

"It's still early, Severus," he said, running a hand through his freshly combed, wet hair and turning back to the mirror. "Who's to say I've failed before the night has even begun?"

"The Dark Lord, for one," said Snape, his reflection emerging from behind Kurt's. "He is getting impatient."

Kurt gave himself one last once-over before turning back to face Snape. 

"I've got it covered," he said, reaching into his dress robes and pulling out a small vial. "By the time the night is over, Mariah will be dead."

* * *

Sirius was waiting at the foot of the marble staircase in the Entrance Hall, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited for Emilie to emerge from the dungeon corridor. James and Lily knew the plan; they'd make sure Geoff steered well clear of Sirius and his date until they'd had their agreed-upon cup of punch and gone their separate ways.

When Emilie finally emerged from the dungeons wearing a set of emerald-green dress robes, Sirius thrust a corsage at her rather stiffly. "Got you this," he said.

She looked at the flower, then back at him, but didn't take it. "Why?"

"Damn it, Delacroix, you're my date to this bloody thing. Just take the damn flowers," he said, thrusting the corsage at her more insistently. "And I'm still expecting that post-party foot massage," he added as she took the corsage and slipped it around her wrist.

"So long as we don't have to engage in coitus," she answered, slipping her hand through his proffered arm as they made their way up the staircase.

* * *

When James and Lily entered the banquet hall -- which Slughorn had adorned with a multitude of pastel-colored decorations, including several live rabbits enchanted to cycle through a rainbow of colors and bewitched to hop upside-down across the ceiling -- James quickly scanned the room for a glimpse of Sirius. Padfoot had told him about his plan to show up with Emilie to piss off Rosier's Slytherin gang, and he had promised to run interference, keeping Geoff as far on the other side of the hall as possible, but hadn't really believed Sirius could be stupid enough to go along with the Slytherin girl's crazy scheme.

And yet, moments later, he'd caught sight of the back of Sirius's dark haired head through the crowd, and beside him, in emerald green...

"Merlin's beard. I thought he was  _ joking _ ."

"Thought who was joking?" Lily asked beside him, rising up on her toes to follow his line of sight through the crowd.

"Padfoot. He told me Emilie Delacroix asked him to come as his date so she could piss off Rosier... and judging by how Rosier seems about to shit himself with rage on the other side of the buffet, I'd say they've succeeded."

" _ What _ ? Why didn't you tell me? If Geoff sees--"

"If I see what?"

As one, James and Lily turned to see Geoff enter the hall behind them, Wendy Slinkhard on his arm wearing a bland shade of beige.

"If you see that they're already playing your favorite song," Lily said hurriedly, grabbing Geoff's arm that wasn't holding Wendy's and beginning to pull them both toward the dance floor. "Come on, you don't want to miss it, do you?"

* * *

Peter Pettigrew had only just stepped inside the party when a hand grabbed him and pulled him over to the side. 

"You're going to do a little job for me," said Snape pointedly.

"Um... Severus, my date... you know Dorcas Meadowes..." stammered Peter, gesturing to the bored, homely girl trying her best to hold his arm without touching it. 

"You won't mind if we talk a moment, go on ahead to the buffet, I'm sure it will keep you occupied for a while," said Snape, eyes glinting. Dorcas Meadowes frowned at him, but headed off toward the food table eagerly all the same. Snape returned his attention to Peter. Peter trembled at the look in his eyes.

"What... what do you want, then?" he asked, trying to sound confident. Snape pulled a small vial from within his robes.

"A little insurance policy," he said, smirking.

* * *

Mariah wanted a drink like never before. A week shut up in her room crying, another catching up on all the work she'd missed, and the weekend in between spent making up with Kurt had left her spent. It didn't help that in all that time she had only spoken to Lily, the other Gryffindors mysteriously preoccupied whenever she entered the room. Remus would say hello sometimes, as would James if he was with Lily, but Sirius was still making a point to speak to her as little as possible, which made her all the more miserable.

At least Kurt was being pleasant. 

Mariah met him at the top of the Spiral Staircase and walked with him towards the fifth floor banquet hall, making no secret of her discontent.

"If I'm unresponsive by the end of the night, it will be a success, that's how drunk I want to be. Physically numb, like my soul," she said. 

"I'll make sure you to deliver your lifeless body back to bed," said Kurt obligingly. 

"My hero," said Mariah, leaning her head on his shoulder. 

They entered the party and headed for the buffet, waiting behind Dorcas Meadowes as she loaded up a second plate. Mariah was looking around the room. 

"There's Lily," she said, watching her friend waltz with James on the dance floor. 

"Did you want to join them?" asked Kurt. Mariah shrugged. 

"I don't really care," she said, eating a cream puff. She glanced away from the dance floor, looking around until she saw the punch bowl, and promptly spat the half-eaten creampuff out, nearly missing Dorcas Meadowes' white patent leather shoes. 

"Omgiuah," spluttered Mariah. Kurt looked at her in alarm. 

"What? What is it?" 

Mariah pointed, swallowing. "Sirius!"

* * *

"They're  _ still _ at the bloody punch bowl," James muttered as he and Lily twirled around the dance floor. "Sirius said their deal was one cup of punch. Fifteen, twenty minutes tops."

"Go and hurry them along, if you're so anxious about it," Lily muttered back. "I  _ still _ can't believe you didn't tell me about this. What was Sirius  _ thinking _ ?"

"From what Moony told me, he wasn't."

"Moony knew about this, too?"

The waltz ground to a halt and the dance floor crowd offered the band a smattering of applause. Geoff and Wendy squeezed their way through the crowd to appear beside James and Lily.

"Wendy wants to go grab a drink -- anyone else?" Geoff asked.

"I'll get the drinks," James said, rather more forcefully than necessary, and disappeared toward the punch bowl before anyone could respond.

Geoff watched him disappear through the crowd and glanced sideways at Lily. "Is he all right?" he asked. "He seems a little... on edge."

"Just N.E.W.T.s," Lily said, her voice shriller than usual. "Oh, listen, the band's starting back up again, let's go--"

"Is that Sirius?" Geoff asked, interrupting her as he peered through the crowd. "It's not like him not to say hello, but I thought he wasn't in the Slug Club... who's his date?"

* * *

"One cup," restated Sirius, looking at Emilie pointedly. She nodded. Sirius filled two glasses and handed her one, downing his in one gulp. "Eurgh... not nearly strong enough," he said, pulling a face. He reached into his robes and withdrew a small bottle and poured the contents directly into his cup, slinging that one back as well. "Here." He tipped some into Emilie's cup. Emilie stared at it. Sirius dumped the rest of the bottle's contents into the punch bowl. "Can't leave these poor sods wanting either."

"Corsage... free liquor... You seem uncharacteristically generous tonight," said Emilie. 

"Madam, I am hurt that you don't appreciate my charitable soul... and I've got another bottle," said Sirius, patting his breast pocket confidentially. "Oh come on, Delacroix, drink up so we can--oh, hell."

"Hello, Sirius," said Mariah, grinning somewhat manically. "So... so much for fraternizing with the enemy, aye?" 

"Fuck off, Jaeger," said Sirius, grabbing Emilie's glass of punch and knocking that one back too, wiping his mouth on a sleeve of his robes. Kurt appeared at Mariah's side and poured her a glass. 

"After all the shit you gave me last fall?" she asked. "Noooo, I would  _ never _ pass up an opportunity like this one."

"Mariah," said Kurt softly, handing her a glass, one hand returning to his robe pocket.

Mariah raised the glass to Sirius. "Looks like you're two faced on all accounts."

"You don't know what you're talking about," said Sirius.

Mariah frowned, setting her glass back down on the punch table. "I know you've been a right bitch lately. I don't know what your fucking problem is, but if you've got something to say, say it to my face and stop avoiding me like a damn coward! OUCH--Peter, that was my foot!"

"Sorry," mumbled Pettigrew, righting her knocked glass and reaching out to pour one for himself. Mariah watched him leave, still seething a little. 

"Don't make a scene, Mariah, you're being childish," said Sirius. Mariah frowned in outrage.

" _ I'm _ being childish!?"

"And children shouldn't drink," said Sirius, snatching her glass away. "Here, drink this, and we're leaving," he said, shoving it into Emilie's hands. 

"You--"

"Emilie, would you mind returning that..." started Kurt softly.

"There's enough punch to go around, Lovell, Merlin's sake," Sirius sighed, rolling his eyes. "Come on." He grabbed Emilie's arm and led her away from the punch table...

...and directly into James Potter.

"One drink, Padfoot. Weren't those your  _ exact _ words?  _ One drink _ ?"

"As you can see, Prongs, the lady hasn't finished hers yet," Sirius said, gesturing at Emilie's.

"Did you do this to fuck with Geoff?" James demanded, ignoring Sirius and turning to Emilie. "Because he has gone through too much this year for  _ this _ \--" he gestured at the pair of them "--to occur."

Emilie looked sharply at Sirius. "You didn't tell Geoff?"

"I didn't know I was supposed to!"

"He's your friend!" she shrieked.

"He's  _ your _ boyfriend!" he shouted back.

"Sorry -- did you  _ miss _ the past month and a half, because Geoff and I are  _ not _ \--"

"Will you both just shut the fuck up?" James interjected. He thrust a finger toward the dance floor. "Geoff is over there, blissfully unaware of this fiasco that's happening right here, and we're all going to keep it that way. The Slytherins saw you two together, and that was the goal, right? There, charade over, go your separate ways, Geoff doesn't get hurt, everyone's happy."

Emilie scoffed. "Since when is James Potter the voice of reason?"

James closed his mouth and scowled. "You know what?" he asked. "Fine, you two are bringing a shit storm down upon yourselves, and far be it from me to stop you." He shoved past them and made his way to the punch bowl.

"He's right," Sirius muttered once James was out of earshot. "This whole thing is fucked.  _ Did _ you do this to fuck with Geoff? Honestly."

"...a bit, yeah," she said. "Just to get his attention, I mean. Not to hurt him."

Sirius sighed. "Look, just -- I promised you one drink, so finish yours, and we'll call it-- _ fuck _ ."

Emilie followed Sirius's line of sight as he broke off sharply, only to see Geoff pulling Wendy through the crowd toward them. They were laughing, half-dancing their way through the throng of party guests; they hadn't seen Emilie and Sirius yet. " _ Shit. _ "

"Just toss the damn drink back, Delacroix!"

"I can't -- here, you take it--"

"No, it's yours--"

"Quit being fucking  _ noble _ , the deal's done. Get  _ out _ of here--"

Geoff and Wendy were getting closer. Geoff had caught sight of Sirius and raised a hand to wave, a broad grin still plastered across his face. His eyes slid to the left to see who Sirius's date was, and the grin flipped to a scowl almost instantly. The hand that had been holding Wendy's arm released the Hufflepuff girl and balled itself into a fist at his side. "What the  _ fuck _ ," Geoff demanded, coming to a stop in front of them, Wendy swept away in the crowd behind him as a conga line of Ravenclaws danced past. "What the  _ fuck _ ."

"Geoff," Emilie started, stepping forward, "I can explain--"

"Really? Because there'd better be a goddamn fan-fucking-tastic explanation." Geoff's eyes darted to the cup of punch in Emilie's hand, and an instant later he'd snatched it away. " _ Please _ don't tell me you've been drinking."

Sirius snatched the cup out of Geoff's hand and held it back out for Emilie to take. "What's it to you if she's drinking? We just wanted to have a good time and piss off some Death Eaters."

" _ She's _ a Death Eater, Sirius!"

Emilie ignored the proffered cup and Geoff's interjection. "I'm not stupid enough to be drinking," she said, scowling.

Geoff opened his mouth to say something else, but at that moment, Wendy emerged from the dance floor crowd and grabbed his arm. "Geoffy, let's get some punch," she said brightly. "And I saw Dorcas over by the buffet, we should go say hello..." Without waiting for an answer, she tugged him by the arm and yanked him away toward the refreshments.

* * *

"Did you do it?" asked Snape.

"Yes," said Peter. "But she didn't drink it." 

"What?" 

"Emilie Delacroix's got it now." 

" _ Fuck _ , why is Mariah Jaeger so hard to  _ kill _ ?" muttered Snape, striding off into the crowd. 

Across the room under a cloud of fairy lights and butterflies, Kurt was watching Emilie Delacroix's glass very closely while Mariah double fisted the punch beside him.

"Can you believe him? I mean  _ can _ you? After all that fuss he made. And he's been ignoring me for weeks." 

"Yeah, you've said," said Kurt distractedly.

"Who does he think he is coming here with her. As if it doesn't matter anymore. I knew it, I knew he only liked me because you were interested." 

"Mmm," said Kurt, his attention now on Snape pushing through a conga line of students to reach Emilie. 

"But how could he go with  _ Emilie _ of all people, I thought he  _ hated _ her." 

"Yeah, crazy. I'll be right back," said Kurt, standing and making his way through the crowd. Mariah sat glumly staring after him. She drank one of her glasses and set it under the bench she was on, nursing the other. Taking a swig of that one, she got to her feet and, stumbling a little, made her way across the dance floor to where Lily stood talking to James. 

"...you did the right thing though, I mean, we can't always be fixing their problems--oh, Mariah..." Lily stopped as her friend staggered to a swaying stop in front of her. 

"Lily...why doesn'anyone like me any more?" asked Mariah, her eyes tearing over. 

"Ohhh my..." sighed Lily, patting her friend on the back. Mariah let out a sob. James rolled his eyes, and Lily gave him an apologetic shrug. Alice Prewett and Frank Longbottom waltzed into their circle, then. 

"Umm, not to interrupt, but have you seen what's going on by the punch bowl?" asked Frank.

"Frankly, Frank, I don't give a fuck what's going on by the punch bowl, because whatever it is is no longer my problem," said James angrily. Lily stood on her tiptoes best she could in heels to see over the crowd.

"Ohh dear… he found them..." she said, patting Mariah on the back somewhat robotically. 

"What's wrong with her?" asked Alice, looking at Mariah. Mariah turned around, face sloppy with tears.

"Nooobody loves me, Alice!" she cried, throwing herself into Alice's arms.

"Ohhh my..." said Alice, rubbing her back and exchanging grimaces with Lily. 

* * *

Kurt and Snape reached Emilie at the same time, but stopped as Sirius turned around, looking between the two of them with some confusion.

"...The fuck do you want?" he asked. Kurt and Snape exchanged looks, then glanced at the drink in Sirius's hand. They straightened.

"Nothing, enjoy your evening," said Kurt, Snape nodding in agreement beside him, and the two of them strode away. Sirius watched them go, frowning. 

"They're up to something," he muttered, glancing at the drink in his hand. "Probably pissed in it." He looked around and saw Rosier making out with Marcia Snook in the corner, both of their dates nowhere to be seen. He walked over and tapped Rosier on the shoulder.

"Can't you see I'm busy," asked Rosier, turning around. "The fuck do you want?" 

"You look dehydrated, have a drink," said Sirius, pushing the glass into Rosier's free hand (the other was very obviously cupping Marcia Snook's left breast under her robes). Sirius turned and walked back to Emilie without further explanation. 

Rosier stared at the drink in his hand, then at Sirius's retreating back. 

"What is it?" asked Marcia Snook, annoyed at the lack of attention. 

"He's up to something," said Rosier, examining the contents of the drink in the light. "Probably pissed in it." He looked around, released Marcia's breast, and walked off into the crowd.

Geoff looked around at the tap on his shoulder to see Rosier standing there. He raised an eyebrow. "The fuck do you want?" he asked.

"Have a drink, mate," said Rosier, shoving the drink at Geoff before walking off. Geoff stared after him, but Wendy Slinkhard cleared her throat, drawing his attention back to her. 

" _ I _ wouldn't mind some punch," she said pointedly. 

"Er, yeah, sure," said Geoff. Wendy took the glass eagerly and downed its contents. 


	27. Fifteen Minutes

"You put actual  _ poison _ in, Severus?" 

"Like  _ you _ were supposed to do. I doubt the addition of the sleeping solution will make any difference, though," said Snape, scowling. Kurt waved an arm at the dance floor. 

"Do you not see how many witnesses there are? And Slughorn's the  _ potions _ professor, you think he won't be able to tell he's been poisoned?" he asked.

"With any luck the sleeping solution you used will provide a nice cover up, but you never know," said Snape. "Of course, you know I will be informing the Dark Lord of your decision to alter the plan." 

"Do you think he'll be displeased with this particular development?" asked Kurt. Snape opened his mouth to reply, then hesitated.

"...I mean, it isn't the original plan. He might be displeased with that..." 

"Will he though?" asked Kurt. He and Snape looked back across the dance floor to where Sirius stood next to Emilie. 

"I guess we'll find out," said Snape, crossing his arms.

"How long do we have?" 

"Fifteen minutes at most."

* * *

"It's okay, Mariah," repeated Lily for the umpteenth time. Mariah sniffed.

"It's not okay, Lily! Everything is stupid!" she slurred pathetically. 

"How many has she had?" asked James, resting his head in his hands as they sat on the wallflower benches. Lily shrugged, looking at Mariah.

"Mariah, maybe you should go to bed. You've had too much to drink."

"No… no. Why should  _ I _ go to bed? After the number of times  _ he's _ been a mess?  _ He _ should go to bed! I don't ever see you trying to put him to bed!" said Mariah, face suddenly dry. 

"That's because he has no dignity, sweetheart," said Lily sympathetically, patting Mariah on the shoulder. James looked at Lily strangely, but she just shrugged. 

"...Where the fuck is Kurt? He's just been so  _ weird _ lately..." muttered Mariah. She shot to her feet suddenly and almost toppled into the snack table, but set off at such a businesslike pace that Lily had no time to steady her. She looked around at James. 

"...I kind of want to go to bed," she said.

"Let's evacuate before this time bomb explodes," said James. "I've got a bottle of Firewhiskey with your name on it back in the dormitories. Oi! Frank!" 

Frank Longbottom stopped at the call halfway to the punch bowl and walked over. 

"Lily and I are leaving. This place is kind of a mess. Let us know if anyone dies," said James, standing with one arm around Lily's waist. Frank saluted shortly, heading back towards the punch table. 

* * *

Mariah pushed her way through the crowd, looking for Kurt, but happened upon Sirius by the punch bowl instead. She promptly slapped him in the face.

"Owww,  _ fuck _ ! What was that for!?" cried Sirius. 

"How could you, Sirius! You don't even like her!" said Mariah furiously. 

"What the bloody hell does that matter!?" 

"Because it does!" declared Mariah, stumbling a little. Sirius rolled his eyes. 

"Mariah, I know this is  _ news _ to you, but you and I, we -- are -- not -- dating. So I can do whatever the hell I please, can't I?"

"It was fine when it was Gwenog Jones and all the rest! Everyone knows you're in and out of them like a drive-in movie theater!"

"A what--?"

"But you can't go with  _ her _ ! She's a person!" Mariah was tearing up again fast, her hand shaking as it clutched a glass of punch. 

"I wonder how your  _ boyfriend _ feels about all this," said Sirius pointedly. 

"Oh come  _ on _ , Sirius, like that ever mattered to you before! How come you never talk to me any more? You never even bother me! You used to bother me all the time..."

"Mariah, you don't need any more, you're drunk. Go to bed," said Sirius, trying to take her glass, but she pulled it back. 

"Stop telling me to go to bed! I'll never go to bed!" shouted Mariah. She threw the punch back, getting most of it on her robes rather than in her mouth. A gaggle of Slytherin fourth-years edged away, shooting her dirty looks.

Sirius ran a hand down his face and handed her a napkin, which she used to get the punch out of her eyes. He glanced around and saw Kurt heading towards them. 

"Great, good job being attentive there," he said, gesturing at Mariah, who glared. Kurt ignored him, taking out his wand and quickly removing the stains from Mariah's robes. 

"Come on, Mariah," he said, "let's get you another drink." 

"Are you serious?" asked Sirius, watching Kurt fill another glass. "She's practically falling over."

" _ You're _ falling for her!" countered Mariah. Kurt steadied her and handed her the punch, glancing at Sirius. 

"Because you're so obviously the voice of reason right now," he said, raising an eyebrow. Sirius made a move, but Frank Longbottom grabbed his arm at the last minute. 

"Woah, there, Sirius. It's not worth it," he said. Sirius looked back at Kurt, who smirked and turned Mariah around, leading her away from the punch table.

Sirius put his hands to his face. 

"Fuu _ uuck! _ " he shouted into his palms. He grabbed a glass, downed it, and grabbed two more, returning to where Emilie was seated beside the dance flor and dropping himself into a chair beside her. "Here, piss-free punch," he said sourly, offering her one of the cups. "They can't have pissed in the whole bowl, right?"

Emilie ignored the cup, her arms folded firmly across her chest as she glared across the dance floor at Geoff and Wendy. The Hufflepuff girl was beaming as she danced an approximation of a foxtrot, but the lanky Gryffindor's scowl from earlier was still firmly fixed on his features. "Asks for an explanation and doesn't even wait to hear one. What an absolute  _ cunt _ ."

"Have a drink, you'll feel better," Sirius said, swirling the contents of the cup to tempt her.

"And then he just -- just goes right back to dancing with  _ her _ . Like he doesn't even  _ care _ ."

"Oh, he cares," Sirius assured her, taking a sip of his own drink. "Had to talk him out of asking you."

Emilie's head swiveled around. "You  _ what _ ?"

"Have a drink," he said. "You'll feel better."

She knocked the drink out of his hand, ignoring his strangled cry of protest as the alcohol spilled across the floor. "I can't drink, Black, I'm  _ pregnant _ !" She stood and stormed off across the dance floor, ignoring the startled looks of several Hufflepuff girls, leaving Sirius gaping after her, open-mouthed as she made a beeline for Geoff and Wendy.

She saw Wendy's smile falter as she approached. "Geoffy, she's back--"

Emilie grabbed at the sleeve of his robe and attempted to pull him aside. "A word,  _ Geoffy _ ?"

"No," he said, wrenching his arm free. "First, you lie to me about your Mark. Then you tell me you're pregnant, but won't even give me the time of day."

The apprehension melted off of Wendy's face. "You're pregnant? Congrat--"

"Shut up, Wendy," Geoff snapped. The look of apprehension returned to the girl's face as her date rounded back on Emilie to continue his tirade. "Then you show up to this party with  _ Sirius _ , of all people--"

"I can explain that," Emilie interjected. "If you'd just let me--"

"Please! Miss Delacroix, Mr. Mansfield, please, control yourselves!" boomed Slughorn. The party had gone silent at the series of arguments taking place, and Slughorn looked frazzled that his Easter party was not all bunnies and rainbows as he'd intended. "Now, is this any way for young ladies and gentlemen to behave? I know this is a party, but let's all try to maintain some sense of--"

He broke off abruptly as Wendy made an odd sort of hiccoughing noise, swaying dangerously on the spot for a moment before coughing loudly, sending a spray of blood and bile all over the dance floor and collapsing in a heap on the floor. The Hufflepuff girl began to writhe on the ground, spluttering and convulsing, her limbs shaking uncontrollably as she continued vomiting.

"Good heavens!" Slughorn cried. "What is the meaning of--Filch? Mister Filch! Yes, do run down to my storeroom and fetch me my black case? Double-quick, now! You--" he went on, thrusting a finger at a nervous-looking Hufflepuff girl "--run to the Hospital Wing, tell Madam Pomfrey to prepare a bed--quickly, now!"

Before the boy had even made it out of the hall, Filch had returned with Slughorn's case, breathing heavily from his sprint to Slughorn's office and back. The potions master quickly opened the case and pulled out a small vial, which he uncorked while directing two other students to hold Wendy still. "That's it, gently now..." he said, pouring the contents of the vial into Wendy's open mouth. Immediately, the girl went limp. "That should buy us time, but I'm afraid she isn't out of the woods yet. Madam Pomfrey will need to see her straight away," Slughorn went on, drawing his wand and levitating Wendy from her place on the floor. "The rest of you -- there will be  _ dire _ consequences when I determine who was responsible for this, mark my words!"

The crowd of onlookers parted to allow Slughorn and Wendy's limp, floating body a passage through the banquet hall and out into the corridor. Following his departure, an uneasy silence filled the room. Gradually, students began filing out of the hall, some shooting accusatory looks at their peers, others looking nervous, still more mystified by what had happened. Within minutes, the hall was all but empty.


	28. Walls

Kurt watched them carry Wendy out, then found his eyes meeting those of Snape across the room, looking equally confused and angry. 

"What happened to her? Too much to drink?" asked Mariah, hiccuping. 

"Couldn't tell you," said Kurt. "Come on, let's go."

He pulled her to her feet a bit rougher than she would have liked and escorted her out into the hallway as the other students began filing out. 

"Kurt, a word," said Snape, exiting behind them. Kurt followed him down the hallway without a backward glance. Mariah watched him, go, frowning, but turned as she saw Sirius exit the banquet hall.

He groaned when he saw her. "Don't," he said.

"Where's Emilie?" she asked derisively.

Sirius sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I don't know, Mariah. Can you just not, please, I've had a long night."

"Oh I'm so sure. All snuggled up with Emilie Delacroix, dancing the night away," shot Mariah.

"I'm not even sure we danced  _ once _ !" He walked down the hallway and sat on a bench, putting his hands to his head. 

"What's the matter with you? You're usually so  _ charming _ when you're wasted. Where's that charm now, huh?" asked Mariah, hiccuping her punctuation. 

"I'm in shock."

"In shock?"

"Yeah, it's what happens when you find out the girl you took to the dance is  _ pregnant _ ," said Sirius pointedly. Mariah gaped, extremely hurt. 

" _ ALREADY, SIRIUS? _ You couldn't keep it in your pants for two hours!?" she cried. Sirius put his hands over his face again. 

"No, Mariah, no... no..." But Mariah was already crying.

"How could you? I thought you hated her! And then you just turn around and... and..."

"Fuck, Mariah, it's not  _ mine _ , it's  _ Geoff's _ ! Who do you think I am? And again,  _ we are not dating _ !"

"That never used to matter to you!" said Mariah, wiping her eyes. "But now it's like we're not even friends."

"Mariah..."

"Why don't you like me anymore?" asked Mariah sadly. Sirius stared at her. 

"Because I gave up, Mariah.  _ Fuck _ ," he said, throwing his hands up. "Merlin knows you've made it hard enough. And now here you are asking why I don't like you while you wait for your boyfriend. Come on, what are you doing?" 

Mariah looked at her feet. "I..."

"What's this, then?" asked Kurt. Mariah jumped. She hadn't even noticed him. Kurt looked from Mariah to Sirius, who scowled back at him. 

"Nothing," Sirius said.

"Nothing?" asked Kurt, stepping closer. "If I haven't said it before, I'll say it now. Mind your own business."

"Same to you," said Sirius, turning and walking away before Kurt could reply.

"Come on, let's go," said Kurt, taking Mariah's arm and leading her away from the party.

They walked in silence, Kurt moving rather quickly. Mariah hiccuped every few breaths and stumbled. 

"Kurt, slow down," she grumbled. He didn't answer her. It was only when they reached the staircase and he started to descend that she jerked her arm away, stumbling backward. Kurt rolled his eyes. 

"Mariah, come on."

"Where are we going?" she asked. 

"The dungeons, my dormitory," he said.

"I don't... I think I should go back to Gryffindor Tower," said Mariah. 

"I'll walk with you," said Kurt.

"No... I think I'll go by myself," said Mariah, starting up the stairs.

"Oh come on, Mariah, is this about Black? You still let him get to you too much, when are you going to leave him behind?" asked Kurt. Mariah turned.

"You know what, somehow I feel like I've left a lot of things behind lately, and I don't think I have much to show for it." She hiccuped, somewhat negating her serious tone, but with that, she turned and made her way up the stairs.

Kurt blinked, not sure what to say. He wasn't sure what to feel. Words floated to his brain.

"So what, you're saying you don't want to be with me anymore?" he called after her.

"I don't even think there's a lot of you left to be with these days," said Mariah, not turning around. 

"What does that mean?" 

"It means I think you're a fuckwit!" Mariah shouted back. 

* * *

Geoff stood transfixed to the spot, staring at the pool of blood that marked the place where Wendy had collapsed onto the floor. He stirred slightly as Emilie touched his elbow.

"Geoff," she said quietly, "we need to talk."

"Is this  _ really _ the time?" he said, turning to glare at her. "Wendy almost  _ died _ . I don't think this is the best--"

"When, then?" Emilie shot back. "You've been avoiding me for over a month now. You really think we'll talk over the Easter holidays? Or maybe afterward, when we have N.E.W.T.s to worry about? We need to talk  _ now _ ."

Geoff sighed, raising a hand to push his red hair back from his face. "Fine. You're right. This thing isn't going to go away, so let's talk."

"This  _ thing _ ?" Emilie asked, her cheeks flushing as she gestured to her abdomen. "Do you mean our  _ baby _ ?"

"No! I mean yes. I mean...  _ this _ ," he amended, gesturing to the air between them. "This... whatever this is. Was. Between us. Including the baby." He groaned and pressed a hand over his eyes, trying to organize his thoughts as he ignored the dull throbbing in his temple. "Can we start with... not the baby?" he asked, lowering his hand from his face. His eyes fell upon the blood and bile on the floor before darting over to a group of sobbing Hufflepuff girls who were still huddled in the corner of the hall. "And talk... not here?"

"Fine," Emilie said shortly. "Follow me."

They made their way briskly out of the hall and down several corridors, past the thinning crowd of students that had been in attendance at the party until they found an out-of-the-way alcove that wasn't occupied by a snogging couple.

"For starters," Geoff said, "why did you come with Sirius tonight? Why did he even ask you?"

" _ I _ asked  _ him _ ," Emilie corrected. "Rosier thought I couldn't get a date, I'd heard you were going with Wendy... there weren't a lot of options left, so I picked the one I thought would get your attention. It didn't work out like I'd planned."

"I don't think tonight worked out like  _ anyone _ planned," he said, frowning. "Why did someone poison Wendy?"

"I don't know," Emilie admitted. "I think that was a mistake."

"So you're telling me someone  _ else _ was supposed to die tonight?  _ Who? _ "

"I don't know! In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly popular with my House any more --  _ assuming _ it was one of them who poisoned the punch. Everything is strictly on a need-to-know basis, and that was apparently something they decided I didn't need to know. I don't know who poisoned the drinks, and I don't know who was supposed to drink it, but unless Wendy has some murderous enemy out there, I think I'm safe in saying she wasn't the target."

Geoff narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously and pressed his lips into a thin line. "If you're lying to me--"

"I'm not lying," she said, stamping her foot. "Since when do you care about Wendy Slinkhard, anyway,  _ Geoffy _ ?"

"I  _ don't _ ," he said. "Ever since we slept together, she thinks--"

"You  _ slept _ with  _ Wendy Slinkhard _ ?"

"That's beside the point! I had to do  _ something _ to convince Sirius I was trying to move on so he'd shut the hell up about you! I don't care a whit about Wendy, I care that there's a  _ murderer _ wandering around! And if we're being honest, that murderer probably has the same Mark on his arm that you do!"

"You know, Geoff, I'd have expected this from Sirius, but not from you. How long did you fight with him to convince him I wasn't like the rest of them? And now here you are, accusing me of trying to kill Wendy!"

"I'm not  _ accusing _ \--"

"Yes! You are! You're saying her would-be killer probably has  _ this _ \--" she yanked back the sleeve of her robes, baring the skull and snake on her forearm "--on his arm. Well, surprise! I've still got it on mine, so I could be one of those murderers trying to go around and poison frumpy Hufflepuff sluts! That's what you're saying!"

"It's not -- that's not what I--"

"Do you think I  _ wanted _ to get this? Do you think I would have if I'd had a  _ choice _ ? All year, you've blamed me for  _ everything _ that's gone wrong. You didn't want my help after Rosier tried to snap your wand in half because I was 'like him.' You accused me of being a Death Eater after the raid that killed your parents because I was friends with people in my own House. It took some fuckfest of a potions mixup and me getting chased halfway across the grounds and  _ beaten _ for you to realize I  _ wasn't _ one of them. And then--"

"And then you  _ did _ become one of them!" he yelled, thrusting an accusatory finger at her forearm. 

"To protect myself!" she yelled back, letting her sleeve drop. As she folded her arms across her chest, for the first time since they'd left the party, he realized she was crying, tears rolling down her cheeks as her shoulders shuddered with each sob. A moment of silence passed between them. "You can't imagine what it's like," she said, quieter. "Kneeling in front of the Dark Lord, with your whole family and everyone you've ever known around you, all saying how  _ proud _ they are, cheering you on as you and all the kids you used to hunt mokes and jarveys with in the woods are waiting for him to brand you because you're not kids any more, you're  _ soldiers _ in this fucking  _ war _ that you didn't even realize you'd signed up for. And then you come back to school and have to lie to the one person you care about most because it would destroy him to know you were one of _ them _ , and when you finally work up the nerve to tell him, everything goes to absolute shit and you don't have a chance to explain, and then--"

"You had a  _ choice _ , Emilie! You didn't have to fucking  _ kneel _ and get that -- that fucking  _ thing _ on your arm. You could have left like Sirius, and--"

"Yeah, well, that's the difference between us, isn't it? Sirius, in Gryffindor, so brave and daring, fearlessly cutting himself off from his family and defying the Dark Lord because that's the Gryffindor thing to do. And me, in Slytherin, doing what it takes to keep myself alive. Do you honestly think a blood traitor from the noble and most ancient house of Black is going to go unnoticed? All Sirius did was put himself -- and everyone around him -- in danger. I did what I had to in order to protect myself."

Geoff tried to swallow, and realized his mouth had gone dry. "Emilie... I didn't think--"

"Yeah, you didn't think, did you? Never did. Anything else you wanted to know, while I'm baring my soul?"

Geoff opened and closed his mouth several times, searching for words. "Have you... decided what to do about...?" he asked finally, gesturing in the general direction of her stomach.

Emilie stared at him coldly. "It's not  _ my _ decision to make," she said. "It's  _ ours _ ."

He looked away from her, his eyes fixing on an indistinct spot on the floor as he considered. When he looked back up at her, her shoulders had stopped shaking, but her cheeks were still glistening in the dim light in the corridor as she continued glaring at him. "I don't suppose--" he started, but broke off. He took a breath, and tried again. "I can't imagine your family would be... pleased," he said.

"Pleased that their unwed daughter was carrying the bastard child of a Muggle-loving blood-traitor? They'd be ecstatic."

"So keeping it is out of the question, then," he said. "Right?"

For an instant, he thought he saw her expression soften -- or perhaps it was just the flickering torchlight -- but then he was sure he was mistaken. "Absolutely."

"Then... I guess the rest is up to you," he said. "I wouldn't want you to do anything you're not... comfortable with. Whatever that may be."

"Right."

Another pause as they both lapsed into silence, both looking at indistinct spots on the floor, neither daring to meet the other's eyes. Geoff glanced back up at the girl in front of him and saw that she had begun crying again, her upper body trembling as she kept her arms wrapped tightly around her middle. In an instant, everything that had happened fell away, and he saw her for what she was: scared, alone, pregnant with his child. If she had been unpopular with her own House before, showing up with Sirius to Slughorn's party would surely cast her out of their circle completely -- and for what, just to get his attention? Hesitantly, he took a step forward and reached out a hand to touch her arm. She shuddered and withdrew from his touch, her green eyes flicking upward to meet his brown ones.

"Emilie, I--"

"Goodbye, Geoff," she said, and turned to hurry away down the corridor, leaving him alone, one hand still outstretched.

* * *

Sirius was still seething long after Kurt and Mariah's voices had faded away down the corridor. He was walking aimlessly, with no real intention of heading directly back to Gryffindor Tower -- Kurt and Mariah would likely be heading to one of their two common rooms sooner rather than later, and he wasn't keen on being present when they arrived. He had just decided that he'd wandered long enough and was about to head up to the tower when he heard a rather choked, sobbing noise coming from through an ajar classroom door. Probably just a weepy third-year shaken up by Slughorn escorting Wendy's body out of the hall, he told himself, and yet, there was something vaguely familiar about the stifled sobs.

As quietly as he could, he pushed the door open a bit more and poked his head in. Emilie was seated at a desk near the front, her face buried in her folded arms as she cried. "Delacroix?"

She looked up at his voice and wiped her nose on the sleeve of her robes. "Go away," she said stuffily.

"Don't be like that," he said. He reached into the breast pocket of his dress robes and pulled out his second bottle of firewhiskey. "Have a drink, you'll feel better."

"I'm  _ pregnant _ , Black."

"I'm  _ sorry _ , I  _ forgot _ . But listen," he said, throwing an arm around her shoulders and taking a swig from the bottle, "you and me, we just alienated all our friends. We're all each other's got in this cold, cruel world."

She huffed. "That's comforting."

"Besides," he added, "I believe our deal included a complimentary post-party foot massage?"

* * *

"Honestly, you really didn't have to walk me all the way down here."

"Now, what kind of chivalrous Gryffindor would I be if I didn't walk a girl home? And a pregnant girl at that. Listen, since you're eating for two, I'll be drinking for two, so your share doesn't go to waste. How's that? I'm such a nice guy. It's a wonder lovely ladies like yourself don't just throw themselves at me. You and that bitch Mariah've got to be the only two women in this school immune to my siren charms."

Emilie rolled her eyes, stopping short in front of a stretch of empty wall. "This is it," she said.

Sirius took another swig and blinked blearily at the wall. "How can you tell? It looks like every other bit of wall in this bloody castle. Took us a bloody enchanted map to find it last time."

" _ Redcap, _ " Emilie said, and the wall panel slid aside with a groan, revealing the passage into the Slytherin common room. She took a step toward the passageway, then hesitated. "Thanks, Black," she said, "for going with me tonight. It was... interesting."

"Yeah, don't mention it," he said. "I mean, things went a little sideways for a bit, and the whole thing was fucked from the start, but I think it turned out all right. I got fucking  _ hammered _ , Mariah got fucking  _ trashed _ , James is getting fucking  _ laid _ , you got fucking  _ pregnant _ \--" He staggered sideways for a moment, but recovered quickly. "Should name your kid after me, since everyone thinks I'm the dad and all--"

"Literally no one thinks that."

"Sirius Orion Black," he yelled, "that's me. And -- and Sirius Orion Delacroix, that's going to be your kid."

She shushed him and pulled him inside the open wall panel as the faint sound of Filch's voice drifted down from a nearby stairwell. The wall slid shut and they listened in the darkness as Filch's voice and footsteps faded away on the other side of the panel, Emilie's hand pressed firmly over Sirius's mouth to keep him from yelling. With a sudden cry of disgust, she drew her hand back and wiped it on her robes. "What the  _ hell _ was that?"

"You were impeding my ability to imbibe, madam," he said, draining the last of his bottle.

"Was that your  _ tongue _ ?"

"Just a sample of my... linguistic abilities."

"You are  _ vile _ . It's a wonder anyone would ever fall for your 'siren charms.'"

"You're no walk in the park yourself, Delacroix," he said, upending the bottle to check for any last missed drops. "And let's talk about your taste in men. You could've had your pick of any of the most eligible pureblood bachelors in this place, and you go for Geoffrey the Ginger Giant? I mean, granted, the rest of them are all absolute cunts, and I salute you for not dating a cunt. Well, learning from your mistakes of dating cunts. Evan Rosier,  _ really _ ? I mean, Geoff's got a heart of gold and the softest lips I've ever--"

"Wait, how do you know--"

"The point is," Sirius said loudly, changing tack, "you're lonely and scared and having a goddamn  _ baby _ and Geoff is doing fuck-all about it because he's scared shitless about it because there's a fucking  _ war _ on and you're a fucking  _ Death Eater _ for Christ's sake, but even through all that, you're still going to be a fucking great mom to that kid because you'd fucking  _ kill _ a man if that's what it took to keep your -- your  _ people _ alive, and I can respect that. And  _ furthermore _ \--"

He was interrupted by Emilie's lips on his. When she drew away a moment later, he saw that she was crying again. He pursed his lips and watched her for a moment through narrowed eyes as she buried her face in her hands, then finally said, "I'm very confused."

"That was... the  _ nicest _ thing..." she choked out, her words muffled by her hands. "You have  _ no idea _ ..."

"It -- it wasn't, really," he said. "I think I called you a murder--"

"Shhh," she said suddenly, pressing a finger to his lips. "Don't ruin it. It was so  _ nice _ . Just come on. I owe you that post-party foot massage. And anyway, you would never make it back to the tower in this state. I'm pretty sure you fell down that last flight of stairs, there's no way you'd make it back up them."

"No pressure to engage in... whatsit... coinage?"

"Coitus. And none whatsoever."

She grabbed him by the arm and pulled him down the passageway to the common room, where a handful of Slytherins were sprawled across the most comfortable of the couches, most of them already asleep or nearly so, except for one couple in the corner who were kissing sloppily and doing something frantic under each other's robes. Just as they were approaching the staircase leading down to the girl's dormitories, Sirius stopped short.

"Doesn't it turn into a slide?"

Emilie stopped and dropped his arm. "What?"

"The stairs. In Gryffindor the girls' stairs turn into a slide."

The Slytherin girl considered this for a moment. "The stairs go  _ down _ , Black. A slide would just get you to where you were going faster. Besides," she added loftily, beckoning him onward as she headed down the stairs, "I expect Salazar figured his students were ambitious enough to get what they were after, with or without security measures."

Sirius shrugged to himself and followed her to a door labeled  _ Seventh Year Girls _ . He followed her into the dormitory and flopped down on the bed nearest the door as Emilie drew the curtains around the four-poster.

"Doesn't take much for you to make yourself at home," she said.

"What can I say, surrounded by ostrichageous green shit, makes me feel like I'm back at Mum's," he said.

"I think the word you're looking for is 'ostentatious,'" she said as Sirius kicked off his shoes and adjusted the numerous feather pillows against the headboard. The dimly lit dormitory spun slightly as he watched the Slytherin rummage through her trunk briefly before turning her back on him and pulling her dress robes over her head. He caught a brief glimpse of the silhouette of her breasts as she bent to pick up the nightdress she'd extracted from the trunk, but an instant later she'd slipped the nightdress over her head and seated herself on the foot of the bed, grabbed one of his feet and pulling off his sock. She did likewise with the other one, and they lapsed into silence for a time as she began kneading the bottom of his foot.

By the time she'd finished rubbing his left foot, he'd drifted off to sleep and was snoring lightly, but stirred as she switched to his right foot, opening his eyes to peer down at her through the darkness.

"I still hate you, by the way," he said, settling himself back into the pillows.

"Likewise," she answered, smirking up at him. She turned her attention back to his feet. "You really need to do something about your cuticles down here."

"Excuse me for not getting regular pedicures. Nail technicians are in short supply. There's a war on, in case you didn't know."

"Is there?"

" _ Fuck _ , it's a  _ foot _ , not a tit, you don't have to squeeze it so hard, Delacroix." He propped himself up on his elbows, significantly more awake. "Not that I don't believe Geoff, but have you really got..." He inclined his forehead in the general direction of her left arm.

"You tried to convince him for so long I was one of them, and now that he says I am, you don't believe him?" she asked. She tutted at him disapprovingly. "How the tables have turned."

"A lot of shit went down that night. Just wondering if he actually saw--" He broke off as she released his foot, extending her arm so the slender red lines of the skull and snake were plainly visible in the dim, greenish light. "Oh," he said, dropping from his elbows to recline against the pillows and close his eyes again as Emilie resumed massaging his foot. "Guess I was right about you after all, Delacroix. Nothing but a murderous, Muggle-killing psychopath."

"Most people run from murderous, Muggle-killing psychopaths, you know," she said.

He cracked one eye open. "Yeah, but I'm safe. Noble and most ancient house of Black, remember?" he asked, pointing at himself. "You'll need me to repopulate the world after you're done killing all the Muggles."

"That's what Regulus is for," she said, releasing his foot and standing as he made a noise of disgust. "Only joking. I wouldn't touch that with a bargepole."

"One thing we have in common," he said. "Where're you going?" he added as she walked to the next bed over and turned back the quilt, climbing in between the sheets.

"To bed," she answered. She nodded in the direction of the bed Sirius was sprawled out on. "That one's Marcia Snook's."

" _ Snook the Snogger _ !?" he exclaimed, scrambling to his feet. The room lurched violently as his feet hit the floor. "Why'd you let me lay there so long? No telling what I've caught."

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded as he slid into bed beside her.

"Going to bed," he answered. "I know  _ you're _ clean, or Geoff would've caught something. No telling what these other bitches have. Not willing to risk it."

She rolled her eyes and rolled over, turning her back on him. "Good  _ night _ , Black."

Sirius took a moment to fluff the pillow beneath his head, and yawned hugely. "I suppose since Geoff's already done his bit to ensure survival of the species, your lot will go ahead and off him," he said, settling himself more comfortably in the bed.

From the other side of the bed, Emilie muttered something that sounded like, "Over my dead body."

"Shove off. Don't tell me you actually  _ care _ ." When she didn't answer, he turned his head sharply to look at her, but she hadn't budged, her back still firmly toward him. "Christ," he said. "You're actually in love with him." He heard her give a loud sniff from the other side of the bed. "Are you crying  _ again _ ? Jesus, Delacroix, keep it togeth--"

"I'm pregnant! I'm hormonal! All I ever do these days is cry!" she said loudly, sitting up abruptly to glare down at Sirius, tears welling in her eyes. "You said it yourself, there's a war on, and I'm having a fucking  _ baby _ , and I gave up all my friends to be with Geoff, and now I'm trapped and I can't do anything but keep moving forward and hope I can keep my head above water and make it through this fucking thing on my own because Geoff doesn't give a damn about me any more, all because I was trying to protect myself and protect  _ him _ because I love him and--"

She was silenced by Sirius pressing his fingers to her lips. "Shhhh, don't talk so much. You and baby Sirius'll be just fine. Fuckin' Slytherins do that. Be fine, I mean." He dropped the hand from her mouth and patted the pillow beside him. "C'mon, Em. Lay back down. Bed. Sleep. No pressure to coitus."

"No pressure," she said, settling back down beneath the blankets.

"No pressure," Sirius agreed.


	29. The Morning After

It was morning. At least, judging by Sirius's raging headache and distinctly sour taste of morning-after alcohol on his breath, it was morning, but when he opened his eyes, the space between the closed curtains of his four-poster bed had an odd quality about it, an almost greenish tint to the light...

He scrambled out of the bed, nearly tripping over the bedsheets and curtains in his haste, and instantly wished he hadn't moved so quickly. He clapped a hand over his mouth both to keep himself from yelling and also to prevent himself from vomiting as his hangover protested against his sudden movement.

He wasn't in Gryffindor Tower. The emerald curtains hanging from each bed, the viridian rug covering the stone floor, the jade eyes of the serpent motifs carved into the bedposts, the greenish tint to the very air itself; all the signs pointed unmistakably to Slytherin. But if he was in the Slytherin dormitory, then that could only mean...

Hesitantly, he reached forward to pull back the curtains of the bed he'd just vacated.  _ Don't be Snivellus, _ he thought,  _ don't be Snivellus, don't be Snivellus, _ please _ don't be Snivellus... _

At the first glimpse of the dark-haired girl still sleeping beneath the sage-colored sheets, he breathed a sigh of relief. At the second, panic swept over him. " _ Fuck _ ," he breathed.

He let the curtains around the bed drop and quickly turned to the nearest trunk, opening it as quietly as he could and yanking out the first set of green and silver robes he could find, throwing them over his head, trying to remember what events had transpired the night before to bring him to his current predicament. He'd gone to the party with Emilie, like they'd agreed. They'd had their one cup of punch, like they'd agreed. They'd gone their separate ways after that, like they'd agreed -- hadn't they? Or  _ hadn't _ they...

He frowned, trying to ignore his headache as he went to a mirror hanging over a basin in one corner of the dormitory, trying to comb his long hair to one side and make it lay flat. He remembered Mariah yelling at him by the punch bowl. He remembered James yelling at him on the dance floor. He _ definitely _ remembered Lovell and Snape pissing in the punch bowl, and  _ thought _ he remembered Emilie telling him she was pregnant -- or had it been Lily? Or maybe it was Geoff... or had Geoff told him  _ Wendy _ was pregnant... but that brought him no closer to how he'd arrived in the dungeons. He gave up on his hair, and, content that he resembled his (admittedly far less attractive) younger brother enough to sneak past any hungover Slytherins who had collapsed in the common room, he headed out of the dormitory as quickly and quietly as he could.

Nearly every single one of the numerous sofas, armchairs, and chaises in the common room had at least one Slytherin strewn across it in varying states of undress, all of them still sound asleep. Sirius, unable to believe his incredible luck, tiptoed across the room to where he spied his brother sitting stiffly upright in an armchair sleeping. After quickly tying Regulus's shoelaces together, Sirius continued his perilous journey through the room and for a moment believed he would actually escape unnoticed--

Until he tripped over Edwin Mulciber, who had seemed to have collapsed as soon as he'd entered the common room, sprawled as he was across the steps leading to the passageway back into the dungeon corridor. Mulciber groaned and rubbed at his face, groggily cracking open one eye. "Oy, watch it, Black," he grunted. "Where're you off to so early?"

Thinking quickly, Sirius adopted the most Regulus voice he could muster. "Library. Heard a fascinating story about Vincent Duc de Trefle-Picques's role in the Goblin Rebellion of the eighteenth century last night and wanted to follow up on it. Did you know that most magical historians believe him to be the fourth great-grandson of Linfred of Stinchcombe, who's actually a distant cousin of Egbert the Egregious, and  _ Egbert _ is the--"

Mulciber groaned again and lowered his head back to the floor, closing his eyes. "Just go on, Black, and shut up about your fucking History of Magic..."

Sirius breathed a sigh of relief, scrambled the rest of the way up the steps, and down the passageway back into the corridor, hurrying through the Entrance Hall and up several flights of stairs as quickly as he could, determined to make it back without anyone noticing him. Had he slept with Emilie? Knowing himself, there was little doubt. A week ago he would have said absolutely not, no matter how smashed he was, but somehow... somehow he had managed to find himself in her dormitory, tangled up in her bedsheets. He suddenly remembered her lips on his (they had been almost as soft as Geoff's, if memory served, and Sirius Black  _ never _ forgot a kiss), and felt the pit of his stomach drop.

He was such an idiot. Geoff would never forgive him now.

He racked his brain, struggling once again to remember the events of the night before. He had gone to the party with Emilie... and then he had spiked the punch... and then Mariah had yelled at him. He paused. What had they even been yelling about? Hazy memories of a tearful, dark-haired girl shouting at him flitted through his mind.  _ Why don't you like me anymore... Sirius, I'm  _ pregnant _... How could you, Sirius, you don't even like her... _

"Oh, fuck..." Sirius stopped dead in his tracks. Had... had  _ Mariah _ told him she was pregnant? Was that why she had been so upset? "Oh,  _ fuck _ ..." He frowned suddenly. They had never slept together. It couldn't be his baby, which meant it was... Lovell's. Is that what they had fought about?

"Great," muttered Sirius, sighing. It had been hard enough he had to pretend the past three months didn't even happen. Now this.

He took a deep breath when he reached the portrait hole, and stepped through. He just had to make it through the common room without being spotted, and then he could--

"Sirius," said Mariah from a squashy armchair near the fire. She looked as though she had slept there.

" _ Fuck, _ " muttered Sirius under his breath as she got up.

"I need to talk to you," she said. She didn't sound angry this morning, at least. "Listen, I... what are you wearing?" 

"Nothing," said Sirius confidently.

"Are those..." He saw her eyes widen as her confusion dwindled. She looked at him, then at the portrait hole, then back at him in the emerald green robes, narrowing her eyes. "Where were you last night?" 

"Asleep," said Sirius.

"Are those Emilie Delacroix's dress robes?" demanded Mariah, her voice significantly more high pitched than before.

Sirius raised his hands in a pacifying gesture, shushing her. "Keep your voice down, will you?" he hissed.

" _ Did you sleep with her, Sirius? _ " Mariah was no longer calm.

Sirius clapped a hand to his forehead. "I didn't know what I was doing." He rolled his eyes at the disgusted look that flitted across Mariah's face. "Oh, come on! I was sloshed!" 

"Yeah, well, so was I, but you don't see me sleeping with half the school!" said Mariah.

"That's not fair," Sirius said, his voice rising. "You've got a boyfriend, so it's not exactly the sa--"

"Not anymore," interrupted Mariah.

Sirius stopped and blinked several times. "What?" 

"I haven't got a boyfriend anymore," said Mariah slowly, frowning at him. "I ended it last night. Thought you might want to know, but I guess I was wrong."

"Wait, so... what about the baby?" Sirius asked.

"What  _ baby _ ?" Mariah asked.

"Last night, you said--oh," Sirius broke off. Maybe it  _ hadn't _ been Mariah... "Are you not...?"

Mariah scoffed, one hand defensively on her midriff. "Fuck  _ you _ , Sirius Black!"

"Oy! What's all the shouting about?" 

Sirius and Mariah turned to see that Geoff had appeared in the stairwell to the boys' dormitories, a tartan dressing gown thrown over his pajamas.

"Why don't you ask  _ him _ ," Mariah said forcefully, thrusting an accusatory finger at Sirius. "He's rather fetching in his new dress robes,  _ isn't he _ ?" She turned on her heel and stormed off up the staircase leading to the girls' dormitories.

"What--?" Geoff's eyes turned from the girls' stairwell to Sirius, and as he looked the dark-haired boy up and down, comprehension dawned. His lips pressed themselves into a thin line and color rushed to his cheeks, his ears turning nearly as red as his hair. "Tell me this isn't what it looks like," he said stiffly.

Sirius looked down at the emerald robes he was wearing, then back up at Geoff. "Geoff, listen to me, I was drunk. I didn't know what I was doing," he said, holding his hands up as though to steady the other boy's reaction.

Geoff turned on his heel and disappeared back up the boys' dormitory stairs. Sirius groaned again, louder, his hands clawed as he ran them through his hair.

" _ All I wanted was to go to the party! _ " he cried to the empty common room.


	30. Two Steps Back

It had been nearly forty-eight hours since Sirius had arrived in the Gryffindor common room wearing Emilie Delacroix's dress robes. Mariah had spent all of her time with Lily, avoiding Gryffindor Tower, the boys, and Sirius as best she could. On the rare occasions that she and Sirius did cross paths while passing through the common room, Mariah would typically pretend as though Sirius did not exist. He tried to trip her once to see if she would give up the act, but she hexed him so badly he had had to go to the Hospital Wing to get his ears reattached. Geoff had also made a point of avoiding areas where he was likely to run into Sirius, spending hours at a time on the Quidditch pitch. For a few brief hours, Sirius thought that perhaps it would be like old times -- just Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs roaming the castle with no mention of girlfriends, Death Eaters, or the war -- but those dreams had quickly been dashed.

James was moody and put-out, and by the end of the first day had already abandoned their weekend wizard chess tournament to join Geoff down on the Quidditch pitch. Remus didn't seem to relish his chess victories over Sirius nearly as much as he had in the past, and once he'd retired to his copy of the  _ Evening Prophet _ following his triumph in the tournament, he settled for giving Sirius the occasional disappointed look over the top of his newspaper. Peter alone seemed sympathetic to Sirius's plight, but even Wormtail's pity grew tiresome after a while, and Sirius soon found himself slipping out of the common room early in the morning, alone, to head down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

The train home for the Easter holidays would be leaving in just a few hours, and Sirius had never looked forward to getting away from school as much as he did now. For a castle its size, Hogwarts seemed terribly small when you wanted to avoid someone, and he was sure that a few blissful days away from Geoff's sullen scowls and Mariah's pouting would do them all some good. Truth be told, as much as Sirius hated the constant looks of disappointment and disdain from his friends, there was something else, deeper than their disapproval, that unsettled him, and he could not for the life of him put his finger on what it was. It kept him awake at night until he chalked it up to not knowing exactly what had happened the night of Slughorn's party.

Despite it still being rather early for breakfast, the Great Hall already had a fair number of students seated at the long tables, most of them chatting animatedly over heaping plates of sausage and toast, or laughing over their goblets of pumpkin juice. Sirius scoped out a spot at one end of the Gryffindor table, but just as he sat down and pulled a platter full of eggs toward himself, he caught sight of another solitary diner across the hall. Emilie had claimed one end of the Slytherin table for herself and was picking moodily at a piece of toast; judging by her stiff posture and the set of her jaw, she was determinedly ignoring whatever it was her Housemates were saying a short distance away.

Sirius picked up his plate and marched across the hall to the Slytherin table, determined to set the record straight.

Emilie glanced up at him briefly as he sat. "There's plenty of room at your own table," she said shortly, nodding in the direction of the red and gold banners on the other end of the room.

"Couldn't help but notice that you're eating alone," he said. "Thought you could use some company." 

Emilie didn't bother to respond, instead taking a bite of toast.

"Good to know things are all normal here and we still hate each other," he said. "Which, speaking of the current state of things," he went on, shoveling a forkful of eggs into his mouth, "I've been meaning to ask you a few questions."

She gave him a flat look. "Go on, then."

"First, are you, by any chance, pregnant?"

She cocked an eyebrow. "You're joking, right?"

Sirius frowned and looked down at his hands as he started counting on his fingers. "If  _ you're _ not pregnant, and Mariah's not pregnant, that leaves... Lily... Wendy... Dorcas..."

"You  _ can't _ be serious," she said loudly, slamming her fork down on the table, causing the other students nearest them to pause briefly in their conversations. " _ I'm _ pregnant, remember?" she went on more quietly once the people around them had gone back to talking amongst themselves. "I must have told you half a dozen times Friday night. Was there anything else you needed?"

"Yeah, actually. Thanks to your foot sorcery, everyone's making it out like  _ I'm _ the bad guy, but  _ you _ were clearly the one who tricked me into--"

"Let me stop you right there," she said, cutting him off. "What exactly do you think happened after Slughorn's party?"

"All I know is I woke up the next morning in your bed and showed up in Gryffindor Tower wearing your robes. Through some very clever detective work and deductive reasoning on my part, I concluded that I must have done what I do best."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, picking up her goblet. "Please, don't flatter yourself," she said. "I know Friday was a little weird and we ended up on good terms, but not  _ that _ good."

"What, it wasn't good for you?" Sirius asked, adopting an injured look. "Sorry, next time I'll be sure to--"

" _ Nothing happened, Sirius. _ Look, it was a rough night for everyone, but--" she broke off suddenly as a thought seemed to strike her. "Hang on... if you think we... who have you told?"

"I didn't  _ tell _ anyone," he said defensively.

"Who thinks we slept together?"

"How should I know what anyone thinks!? All I did was show up in my common room wearing your robes, and everyone got pissed off!"

"Sirius Black, I am going to ask you one -- more -- time. Who thinks we slept together?"

"Let's see... Mariah," he said, ticking off names on his fingers. "Lily and James. Remus. Peter. Frank saw me, so I'd guess he told Alice, who would have told Marlene and Gwenog..."

Emilie frowned at him and folded her arms across her chest as he continued rattling off the names of half of Gryffindor House, deliberately omitting the one she was most concerned about. "Does Geoff think we slept together?" she asked flatly.

"Geoff thinks we slept together. Well, what was he supposed to think?!" he demanded as she groaned loudly, burying her face in her hands. "I show up at the ass-crack of dawn wearing green, Mariah's shouting at me and waking up half the bloody dormitory, and need I remind you that it was  _ your  _ idea to go to the party together, and I have no idea what happened that night, so I'd say he's got every right to think we shagged!"

"You want to know what happened? You walked me back to the dungeons after the party because you had to be a dashing, chivalrous Gryffindor, and then you couldn't make it back up the stairs, so you stayed the night. That's it. End of story."

Sirius frowned. "You kissed me, though," he said. "I remember that much."

"I didn't mean to. It was an impulse. Geoff and I'd had a row, and you were being so  _ nice _ ... It was a mistake, and I take full responsibility for it, but believe me when I say nothing happened. Oh, and since you decided to borrow my green dress robes, when Edwin Mulciber saw you sneaking out of the girls' dormitory Saturday morning, he thought you were Regulus. Lucky you."

"Lucky?" Sirius asked. " _ Lucky _ ? How is being mistaken for that bloody little  _ toe rag _ 'lucky'?"

"Because no one saw _ you _ leaving the Slytherin dormitory. There's no proof you were ever there. And trust me, a rumor that  _ you _ , of all people, spent the night in my bed is the  _ last _ thing I'd want spread around."

The Gryffindor frowned, narrowing his eyes at her.

"Look, you did me a favor and went along with my terrible idea to go to the party together. This is me thanking you. Now we're square, and we can go back to hating each other while I sort out the mess I got myself into by asking you to go with me in the first place. Happy Easter," she added, standing and departing from the table.

Not keen on being left alone at the end of the Slytherin table, Sirius stood and did likewise, making his way back to the table for his own House, a considerable spring to his step now that he knew nothing had happened between him and Emilie.

He spotted Geoff sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table next to Remus, looking as though he hadn't slept very well, and made a beeline for him, grinning widely at him from across the table as he waited for him to look up from his porridge. When he finally did glance up at him, he immediately turned back to his breakfast without comment.

"Mansfield, guess what? I have great news," said Sirius, rocking back on his heels. Geoff didn't bother to look back up at him. Beside him, Remus was giving Sirius a look somewhere between encouragement, exasperation, and pity. Sirius went on despite their lackluster reactions. "Well, okay, I'll just tell you then. I didn't sleep with Emilie after all!" He flung out his arms as if to say 'ta-da.' Geoff still didn't look at him. "...Mansfield... Geoff, did you hear me? I didn't sleep with her... so you can stop ignoring me now."

Geoff's gaze remained fixed on his breakfast.

Sirius frowned, deflated. "Oh come on, this is what you were on about, wasn't it? Nothing happened, surprise, problem solved! The dream team lives again." He looked at Remus for support, but he just shrugged. Sirius groaned. "Come  _ on _ , Mansfield, what do you want from me?"

"Remus, would you please inform that irritating sound that if it values having its ears attached to its head it will leave me alone," said Geoff without looking up.

Remus looked at Sirius apologetically. "Geoff says that--"

"Yeah, yeah," said Sirius, rolling his eyes. He left them, returning to the far end of the table where the rest of the Marauders had taken their seats. Something deep inside him throbbed painfully just behind his heart, but he ignored it.

"Sirius, you should really just leave it alone," said James as Sirius sat beside him and loaded up a new plate. "Don't start stalking him like how you did Mariah in first term."

"I'm not... it's not the same thing... that's not what I'm doing!" said Sirius haltingly. "It's just he thought that... so I just thought I would... and then I thought he'd maybe..."

The other Marauders stared at him, eyebrows raised.

"I don't think I've ever seen you unable to speak," said Remus. "It's your favorite activity."

"Whatever," said Sirius bitterly. "I didn't sleep with Delacroix," he added as an afterthought.

"No?" asked James around a mouthful of bacon.

"She says we didn't, anyway. And she didn't have a drink all night," said Sirius.

"You know, you wouldn't have been in this mess in the first place if you hadn't had a drink all night either," said James a bit harsher than was necessary. 

Sirius frowned at him. "Oh, like you haven't had a few in your own time. The only reason you calmed down was because you got a  _ girlfriend _ . Who am I supposed to hang out with these days, huh? Maybe I've got all this drama now because my best friend's never around. No offense, Moony, Wormtail."

"None taken," said Remus flatly. Peter looked upset.

James looked at Sirius, his expression softening. "I'm sorry. I guess I haven't really been thinking about it that way," he said.

Sirius straightened a little in his seat. "We good?" he asked.

James nodded. "We're good."

"Good, because I'm coming to your house for Easter," said Sirius, slouching again and returning to his food. 

* * * 

The train was waiting for them when they reached Hogsmeade. Mariah and Lily got their own compartment. The Marauders passed by and James waved to Lily, but they moved on without stopping. Mariah watched Sirius pass by the compartment window. He glanced at her, and she turned away, scowling. When she looked back, he was gone. 

"Git," she muttered under her breath. A minute later Kurt walked by with Emilie and Snape. Mariah stared at her hands. 

The train moved out of the station and soon there was a knock on their compartment door.

"Hey... can I join you? Everywhere else is full." It was Geoff.

"Sure," said Mariah, gesturing to the empty seat opposite her. Geoff sat and exchanged a grim look with Mariah before turning to look out the window. Lily looked from one to the other, then rolled her eyes.

"I swear, you two should each have your own telenovelas. Lighten up, will you?" she said, and then added, in a considerably brighter tone, "It's Easter! No classes for a week! Geoff, what are you doing for the holiday?" 

Geoff turned away from the window to give her a flat look. "I'm going to Claire's, where I'll probably sort through her dead husband's belongings and sell whatever she doesn't want to keep."

"Oh..." She faltered for a moment, but pressed onward. "Well... you'll get to see Claire, that's nice. I mean, how long's it been?"

"She's gone to visit family on the coast and spread Joel's ashes. I'll be home alone," he answered.

Lily quickly changed tack. "Oh... err -- Mariah, what about you?" 

"Well, Devon kicked me out, and my dad is still in the hospital, so I was going to ask if I could crash at yours," said Mariah.

"Sorry, Mariah, I thought I told you. I'm staying at James's for break," said Lily, her ears turning pink.

"Don't worry about it. I'll just book a room at the Leaky Cauldron. I'll be fine," said Mariah, turning back to the window.

"You could stay at Claire's if you wanted," Geoff offered. "She's got plenty of extra room."

"I might actually take you up on that, if you don't mind," said Mariah, her tone a shade brighter. "It'd be nice to have some company, right?"

"I suppose," said Geoff. 

"Well, good. That worked out well," said Lily, determined to create a positive space, despite the dead air that hung between the three of them. She shifted uncomfortably. "I'll... be right back, I want to ask James something." 

She stood and quickly stepped out into the hallway, making her way down to the other end of the train. 

James and the other Marauders had their own compartment almost all the way at the back of the train. Lily passed the food trolley, squeezing around the precarious boxes of chocolate frogs on the corner before reaching the compartment and sliding the door open to enter.

James and Remus were examining a  _ Daily Prophet _ on one side while Sirius groaned in a corner, lying splayed across three quarters of the seat, his feet resting against Peter's lap, which was filled with candy from the trolley. Lily took a seat next to James, kissing him on the cheek and looking at the  _ Prophet _ over his shoulder.

"No Muggle attacks this week," said James.

"That's good," said Lily.

"No wizard attacks either," said Remus. "It's suspicious, considering how much activity there's been lately."

Lily didn't respond, scanning the page with them as they turned to another spread. Sirius groaned again from the corner of the compartment. Lily glanced at him.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked. 

"I haven't been able to shake this feeling since we left school," said Sirius, not opening his eyes. 

"What feeling?" asked Lily.

Sirius opened one eye to peer at her. "This feeling like I've been punched in the gut. I feel sick."

"Licorice wand?" asked Peter, offering Sirius a piece from his candy hoard.

"No, Wormtail, I just said I feel sick," said Sirius, rolling his eye before closing it again.

"...Oh... alright," said Peter, retracting the licorice wand, somewhat disappointed.

Sirius looked at him and sighed, pushing himself up on his elbow. "Give it here, Wormtail," he said taking the candy and shoving half of it into his mouth. "What I mean is I feel this like pain in my gut, only it's not in my gut it's like right above it, whatever that is, so it's like I'm nauseous, but like the middle of my chest."

"Sirius, that's your heart," said Remus, rolling his eyes.

"Right, that. Well anyway it's making me sick," said Sirius.

"What you're feeling is called remorse," he said.

"Re-what?"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, you feel bad about what you did or didn't do to Geoff and Mariah with Emilie at the party," explained Remus.

Sirius made an indignant noise. "I didn't  _ do _ anything! Why should I feel bad about it!"

"Because they think you betrayed them in one way or another and they're  _ hurt _ . You'll either have to make up with them or wait and hope that they'll give you another chance," said James.

Sirius shoved the rest of the licorice wand into his mouth and settled back down on the seat. "They're  not going to listen to me," he said, throwing his hands up in the air. "No one ever believes me, it's just something about me makes everything I say come off as sarcastic."

"Could it be that everything you say just  _ is _ sarcastic?" asked Lily. 

"Hey, I'm being serious," said Sirius. "They're not going to listen to me. Remus... could  _ you _ talk to them?" 

"Why me?" asked Remus.

"Well you're like a prefect and that. Isn't it your job to resolve student conflicts?" asked Sirius. "Protect the weak and uh... stand up to... disorderly clubs..."

"That's not what a prefect does," said Remus with a hint of exhaustion. 

"Well anyway, you and Mariah are friends, can't you just go put in a good word for me?" asked Sirius. 

"Mariah is going to Geoff's for the Easter break," said Lily. "You could go with them just to make sure they're alright."

"I'm not a babysitter," said Remus. "I've had a nice break from that lately and I'm not eager to jump back into the fray."

"Oh, come on, Remus, we don't  _ always _ ask you for favors," said Sirius.

"With Mariah in the state she's in, it might be a good idea for Order members to keep an eye on her for a while, just to see what she does. And with her family situation so unstable, and her father in the hospital, it couldn't hurt," said Lily.

Remus frowned at her. "So you want me to invite myself to Geoffrey Mansfield's house?" he asked, looking back at Sirius.

"Technically his aunt's house," Lily added helpfully.

Sirius shrugged. "You do you, mate, just get in there," he said.

"Right," said Remus with a resigned sigh, handing the  _ Prophet _ to James. "But you owe me, Sirius." 

"Cheers," said Sirius as Remus stood and exited the compartment.


End file.
